


A Ticket to the Ballet

by Multiple_Universes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ballet Dancer Katsuki Yuuri, Ballet Dancer Mila Babicheva, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Loneliness, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, ballet dancer Phichit Chulanont, ballet dancer Sara Crispino, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 104,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21554881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multiple_Universes/pseuds/Multiple_Universes
Summary: Victor grew up to think that he always had to deal with all his troubles on his own. He never asked himself why he was doing something and he never thought of himself as lonely, but one day there he was – wondering what was the point of it all. And along came Yuuri Katsuki – one of the best ballet dancers the world has ever seen.
Relationships: Christophe Giacometti & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Mila Babicheva/Sara Crispino, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri, Phichit Chulanont/Christophe Giacometti
Comments: 251
Kudos: 319





	1. First Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> I always get so excited when I get to start a new fic! The idea for this one has been bothering me for a long time now, so finally I can get it out of my system!
> 
> The idea for this fic came from a conversation I had in the comments of one of my other fics. Sadly, I can't remember which one it was...
> 
> I think I might try writing two fics side by side again. The other fic will be for a different fandom. We'll see if I can pull this off, or if characters start accidentally showing up in the wrong fic haha

The first time Yuuri met Victor there was no big revelation, no hint of how important a little encounter like that would be for both of them. Yuuri was rushing from work, a bag with his costume in one hand and his gloves clutched in his other.

Everyone had long gone, or so he’d supposed until his eye fell on the lonely figure standing just outside the theatre.

It was a cold day in the middle of December. A freezing wind blew outside, making people cover up as much as possible as they ran, seeking shelter from the bad weather.

But the figure stood all alone, showing no sign of going anywhere.

Yuuri paused at the glass doors. He wasn’t allowed to let anyone in, but there was just something so heart-wrenching about the dark coat and the line of the man’s shoulders, that Yuuri couldn’t help himself.

He opened the door and stepped out. “Excuse me,” he called out.

The man turned. He was in a very good coat that wasn’t buttoned up all the way. A white scarf hung carelessly from his neck, as if the man couldn’t feel the cold wind that bit all the way to the bone and had only put the scarf on as a kind of fashion accessory. He wasn’t even wearing a hat, letting that same wind toss his light-coloured hair about.

Yuuri stared at a pair of blue eyes before finally remembering himself. “Aren’t you freezing?”

The man smiled. “I’m used to it.”

Yuuri puzzled over this response and then wondered what he ought to say next. “Alright,” he finally managed. “I thought I’d offer you a chance to come in and warm yourself…”

“Don’t worry about me,” the man went on insisting. “I’ll be fine. Really.”

There was something about him that suggested high society, but, then again, Yuuri reflected, that could be said about many people who came here. That was a typical effect of people dressing and looking their best.

The man gave him a blank stare, as if to ask why Yuuri was still standing there and then an idea occurred to him. “Sorry, am I in your way?”

“Not at all,” Yuuri replied smoothly as he wished that he’d worn a warmer coat. And a thicker scarf too, he added mentally after another gust of wind went right through him.

The man gave a sad smile. Yuuri had never seen one like it before. It made tears rise to his eyes. “I got lost in thought,” the man admitted. “Have a good night.” With those words, he turned around and disappeared into the night, leaving Yuuri to stare after him.

Yuuri shook his head. He had to get out of the cold. He couldn’t let get sick. He had another performance the next day and director Celestino wouldn’t be pleased if one of the principal ballet dancers ended up bedridden.

He wrapped his coat tighter around himself and hurried off to his apartment, thanking every force in existence that it was nearby.

The second time Yuuri met Victor was the next evening after yet another performance.

That night had gone well and Yuuri was humming his favourite excerpts from the ballet he’d just danced to when he came to the glass doors that led out of the building and spotted the lonely figure standing out in the cold once again.

Yuuri had thought about the solitary man once before he’d fallen asleep the night before, but after that he had forgotten all about him.

There he was again – dressed in the same coat and scarf as he stood out in the cold wind. Why was he here? Was he coming to the Theatre on a whim, or did this mean that he’d attended both performances?

Yuuri had met ballet enthusiasts who went to every single performance, but none of them bothered to stay behind long after the performance had ended. Why didn’t he go home, or anywhere else that was out of the cold?

Yuuri stood at the glass door and watched the man. The wind howled like it had the day before, tossing leaves all around the man. It played with the folds of the man’s coat and the end of his scarf. Still the man remained where he was, like a cliff edge remains resolutely still, oblivious to the waves breaking against it. His expression was hard to read from this distance, but Yuuri was prepared to bet that he wasn’t looking at anything in particular.

How long was he going to stand like that? How long could anyone stand like that? Why wasn’t he worried about catching a cold in all that wind? Why was he…

Yuuri’s hand slid down the glass.

...so _alone_?

His heart ached as soon as the word occurred to him. Because it was true: the man radiated loneliness like a star radiated warmth. Something about the curve of his shoulders suggested that there was no one waiting for him anywhere.

 _That can’t be true,_ Yuuri reasoned with himself. _Surely, there must be_ someone _!_

He continued to watch, willing the universe to send someone to meet this man.

But the minutes ticked by and he remained all alone.

 _Maybe he needs someone to talk to,_ Yuuri thought. But it was getting late and it was a weekday night, so his chances of finding someone to talk to were very slim.

 _I could do it,_ he suddenly realized and felt foolish for not having thought of it before. _I could talk to him._

But just as the thought occurred to him, the man vanished. Yuuri had taken his eyes off him for a mere minute and somehow missed the moment the man left.

I _need to go home,_ Yuuri thought miserably and pushed the door open.

He remembered that no one was waiting for him at home either and felt more miserable than ever. He did his best to push the thought out of his mind, but no matter how hard he tried to think about something else, the thought was always there.

He wasn’t performing the next day, which left him with a free evening. He did a few chores and then wandered around the city, feeling restless and unable to find anything to do with himself.

But Yuuri found himself continue coming back to the theatre where he performed, hoping to catch sight of the man once more. To his surprise, he wasn’t there among the crowd of people coming in to watch that night’s performance.

 _Maybe I missed him,_ Yuuri thought.

Or maybe the man wasn’t coming back, but Yuuri didn’t want to dwell on that possibility.

He returned once more after the performance ended, but again the man wasn’t there.

 _I missed my chance,_ Yuuri thought sadly and went home with a heavy heart.

The first time Victor met Yuuri was at the ballet. His parents had bought him a ticket for _The Nutcracker_ for his birthday and, not wanting the ticket to go to waste, Victor went to the ballet.

The sad truth was: he didn’t like ballet. Whenever he heard the word “ballet” he always thought of watching it when had been very young in bad quality on his grandparents’ tiny TV. They always watched Swan Lake, but if you didn’t sit close enough, it looked like a bunch of white splotches moving around and you had to trust that they were actually swans.

His parents didn’t know this, of course, and he didn’t tell them. That would’ve been rude and ungrateful.

So he went to the ballet, bracing himself for something awful. He learned very soon that he’d been wrong.

Far from awful, the ballet was amazing. The sets impressed him. The prima ballerina delighted him and her partner, the charming Nutcracker, bewitched him. He’d never seen anyone do what he had done on stage.

Afterwards, the show’s program told him that the part of the Nutcracker had been performed by a ballet dancer named Yuuri Katsuki. The guide also helpfully provided a short blurb of information about each of their dancers. Yuuri Katsuki’s information contained only four things: where he was born, where he’d trained, when he’d joined the ballet company and when he’d been promoted to principal dancer. In short, it barely had any information at all.

Victor wanted to know more, so he searched online. He found a neglected Instagram account with a few photos of dogs and some of his ballet costumes. He managed to find a video someone had snuck from backstage with questionable quality and then he watched every trailer the ballet company released. After that he bought another ticket for the Nutcracker. This time when the Nutcracker went out onto the stage it turned out to be someone else.

Victor stared in shock. He flipped through his program and tried to read it in the dark. Then he pulled out his phone and used its light to read.

Yuuri didn’t play the part in every performance of the Nutcracker. There were two other ballet dancers who shared the role with him, all according to a schedule in the program that he’d failed to notice when he’d first read through it.

When he came home he bought another ticket, this time taking care to double-check that Yuuri was scheduled to be there. He sat in the back row of the orchestra pit and applauded as loud as he could every time Yuuri danced.

There was something magical about the way he moved and even the audience picked up on it and responded with extra enthusiasm.

At the end when all the dancers came out onto the stage to make their bows, Yuuri got a standing ovation that lasted longer than the applause that anyone else got.

Victor went home, feeling inspired. How could he have ever thought that ballet was dull?

He watched two more performances of the Nutcracker and then had to endure the long agony of waiting for the next ballet as the dancers took a short break from performing.

He realized then that he was starting to get used to attending regularly and got very upset when something forced him to miss a performance. Seeing how well the other members of the audience dressed, he bought an expensive suit and wore it to every performance.

He read about ballet and watched videos about it online, first to learn the names of the different jumps and then going so far as to try to learn French. It became a fun hobby: he would watch every performance and try to learn something from it. But over time he came to realize that he wanted something more.

More? What else could there possibly be? He tried a few of the ballet jumps himself, but that didn’t seem to be the answer.

What was it? He didn’t know.

He watched ballet after ballet and compared all the dancers he saw to Yuuri. It was easy to see that he was one-of-a-kind. He was also always playing the part of prince charming, which felt right.

Summer came and the ballet season ended. Victor was suddenly faced with several empty months with no beautiful dancing.

He tried to find out if the ballet toured anywhere, or if there was some other way to see the dancers on stage, but found no useful information. This was the dancers’ time off as well as their time to prepare for the next season.

Victor couldn’t explain how he survived that summer. All his hopes hung on the date of the next ballet, which was seared into his memory.

Finally, the special day came and Yuuri went out on the stage, dazzling the audience and Victor yet again.

Victor measured time in intervals between Yuuri’s ballet performances. The ballet company was putting on the Nutcracker again at the end of December and he was looking forward to it in the same way as others looked forward to meeting their old friends again.

But before he could see the Nutcracker the ballet company put on a completely different ballet: Onegin, based on Pushkin’s Eugene Onegin.

Like every student in Russia, Victor had read the book when he’d been in school, but now, almost 13 years later, he couldn’t remember a single part of it. He went to the ballet having no idea what the plot would be. He didn’t even read it ahead of time in the program, deciding that a surprise was best.

This time Yuuri played the part of Lensky – the noble-hearted young man friends with Onegin and in love with Olga.

Victor watched with dismay as Onegin flirted with Olga and as she returned his attentions. In response, Lensky challenged Onegin to a duel. Onegin agreed a little reluctantly and took his friend’s life.

Victor’s heart stopped. He raised a hand to his face. He hadn’t been prepared to watch his favourite dancer act out his own death.

Dead! For a moment, Victor was convinced that he, himself, was dying.

He sat through the rest of the ballet as if in a daze and couldn’t even bring himself to leave his seat during the intermission.

Afterwards, he found it impossible to go home. He merely stood outside, unable to leave, with the image of the dancer lying motionless on the stage before his eyes.

Dead! It was terrifying.

But he bought tickets for Yuuri’s next performance and watched him die again, this time armed with the knowledge of how it was going to play out.

It was just a ballet based on a made-up story. There was nothing real about it, he knew that. But, for some reason, it had a profound effect on him even the second time around.

He went to the third performance, wondering if it would devastate him the same way. But this time there was a change to the ballet that he hadn’t anticipated.

After the duel the curtain fell and, just as everyone rose to leave their seats to take a break for the intermission, a voice announced: “We invite everyone to come upstairs to a talk with the principal dancers about tonight’s ballet.”

A talk with the dancers? Victor’s heart leapt in his chest. The possibility that he might get to see his favourite dancer up close had never occurred to him before.

He rushed up the stairs until he spotted a place where a big crowd had gathered.

When he got a little closer, he realized that what he’d initially taken for one big crowd was in fact several crowds, each gathered around one of the principal dancers.

He headed to the one with Yuuri Katsuki at its centre without stopping to think.

The dancer smiled pleasantly at the people gathered around him. He answered their questions and handed out autographs with a faintly embarrassed air, as if he didn’t think he deserved to be here, at the centre of all this attention.

Victor pushed his way to the front and realized too late that he didn’t know what to do next.

Yuuri met his eye and nodded as if they were old acquaintances.

Victor’s heart beat fast. Was it possible that Yuuri had recognized him as the man who’d attended his every performance for the past year? Was it possible that he’d somehow spotted Victor in the audience and…

 _Calm down,_ he told himself. _Don’t get carried away. He was just being polite._

Yuuri signed another program and turned to face Victor. “Sorry, did you want an autograph too?”

“Yes,” Victor answered automatically and then the meaning of Yuuri’s words sank in and he exclaimed, “Oh yes! Please!”

The ballet dancer smiled at this and held out his hand.

Victor handed over his copy of the program and fumbled in his pockets, looking for a pen. He felt his face get hot as it dawned on him that maybe he didn’t have a pen and he’d have to beg the people in the crowd around him for one.

Guessing what was on his mind, Yuuri turned to the nearest person to him and flashed another beautiful smile. “I’m so sorry. May I borrow your pen, please?”

He’d addressed the question to a large middle-aged man who coloured and handed over his pen as he stammered out something incoherent.

Yuuri took it, signed the program on the page with his name, closed it and handed it back to Victor with the words, “Here you are.”

Victor felt Yuuri’s hand linger on his for just a moment before he pulled it away and turned to face the next person.

He watched Yuuri continue to talk to the fans that had gathered around him, feeling as if he’d ascended to heaven. The dancer had a very pleasant voice and equally pleasant manners.

The intermission bell rang to call everyone back to their seats.

Yuuri threw a quick glance at Victor and vanished behind one of the doors with the other principal dancers.

Victor walked back to his seat, clutching the program to his chest like a priceless relic.

Only when he sat down did he think to look at the signature Yuuri had left. He opened his program and discovered much to his surprise that it wasn’t a signature, but a whole note.

_Meet me outside after the performance._

_Yuuri_

Victor trembled. Why did the ballet dancer pick _him_ out of the whole crowd?

The lights dimmed, the curtain rose and the next act began.

There was no way to focus on the dancers now and he was grateful that there wasn’t going to be a second intermission. He slid back and forth in his seat, earning several irritated glances from his neighbours.

When, at last, the ballet was finished, he rushed outside, remembering too late that Yuuri will need time to change before he could join Victor.

Still he waited, the anticipation of meeting the dancer like this knocking all thoughts of his fake death on the stage out of his mind.

Why had Yuuri decided to meet with him? What had Victor done to deserve such an honour? The two questions went round and round in his mind as he struggled to come up with an answer to either of them.

Someone cleared their throat next to him and Victor turned to see Yuuri standing at his side.

The dancer was in a hat and scarf that covered most of his face. Victor realized with a feeling of deep embarrassment that he was the same person as the one who had approached him several days ago and who he’d brushed off as if he’d been some sort of nuisance.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked.

Victor clutched his own hands together. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was you.” He lowered his head, not daring to meet Yuuri’s eye. “It was very rude of me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That time when you were here I brushed you off,” Victor explained. “When I was standing outside and you came up to me.”

“Oh, that,” Yuuri said and Victor raised his head in time to see the smile on the dancer’s face. “You weren’t rude at all.”

Victor tried to tell himself that Yuuri actually meant this and wasn’t saying it just to be nice, but had no luck with this.

He must’ve guessed what was on Victor’s mind, because he asked, “Can I invite you for a hot drink with me? Tea, or hot chocolate, something like that?”

“Yes, of course,” he agreed easily.

“Um…” The ballet dancer looked hesitant like someone about to say something they weren’t sure they were allowed to say. “You haven’t told me – I mean: what’s your name? If you don’t mind my asking?”

“Victor,” he answered. He should’ve introduced himself right away! How did something so simple and obvious not occur to him earlier?

“And I’m Yuuri,” the dancer replied. “Please don’t call me Mr. Katsuki. I always feel really awkward when people do that.” He paused to wait for a response from Victor.

Victor nodded.

“Shall we? I know a good place nearby.”

Victor nodded once more and followed the dancer down the street, wondering if this was really happening, or if he’d accidentally fallen asleep during the intermission and dreamt all this.

Yuuri was hard to recognize under his thick coat, his woolen hat and buried in his thick scarf. The bulky clothing hid his graceful figure, making him look like someone else entirely. No wonder Victor hadn’t recognized him!

They walked side by side for two blocks before Yuuri came to the door of a café and opened it for Victor, letting him enter first.

The café was small. A warm light filled the room, illuminating three small tables and six chairs, which were in a tight competition for the available space.

Yuuri took the only available table and Victor sat down opposite him.

“They make really good hot chocolate here,” Yuuri told him as a waiter appeared to take their order. “Belgian hot chocolate for me, please,” Yuuri told the waiter and got up to remove his coat.

Victor watched the dancer reveal the clothes he had on under his coat. They were ordinary clothes, but there was something surreal about seeing Yuuri in them. Yuuri put his hat and gloves into his coat’s pockets. Finally he draped his coat and scarf over the back of his chair and sat down. Victor watched the whole thing as if Yuuri had just stripped all his clothes off. Deep down, he suspected that his mouth was hanging open.

“And what would you like, sir?” the waiter asked, somehow remaining calm in the face of so much beauty and grace.

“The same for me, please,” Victor stammered out. He couldn’t remember what Yuuri had just ordered and he didn’t much care what he would end up getting.

The waiter left without another word.

Yuuri rubbed his hands to warm them.

Victor tried to think of something to say. Again, he was convinced that he was in a dream of the best kind.

“So… um…” Yuuri began and the edges of his mouth twitched up in a smile, “do you attend the ballet often?”

“Yes,” Victor answered. He forced himself to focus on their conversation. He had to talk like a normal person or risk weirding the ballet dancer out. “I’ve attended every single one of your performances since last December.” He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. So much for normal.

“Really?” Yuuri asked and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks. “I’m very flattered.”

“You’re a very talented dancer!” Victor exclaimed, unable to hold his enthusiasm back any longer.

“Thank you.” Yuuri lowered his eyes.

The waiter returned with their drinks and placed them on the table between them. “Enjoy,” he said and left.

That was when Victor remembered that he was still in his coat and scarf.

Yuuri took his cup with both hands, warming his fingers more out of pure habit than because he was feeling cold. In fact, at that precise moment he was feeling very warm. As far as he knew, no one had ever attended so many of his performances and the thought of that much dedication was very flattering.

He let his gaze sweep slowly over Victor as the man rose, remembering a little late about his coat and scarf. He took note of every detail of his appearance, mentally cataloguing it to think about later.

 _If he asks me to be his boyfriend, I’ll say yes,_ Yuuri decided and then felt a little embarrassed of that thought. Even casual dates shouldn’t depend solely on someone’s good looks. At the very least, he needed to make sure that Victor wasn’t some kind of murderer.

Victor sat back down, tried the hot chocolate and nodded in approval. “It’s delicious!”

“I’m glad.” Yuuri felt himself relax a little and realized that he’d tensed before Victor had tried his drink. He’d really worried that Victor wouldn’t like this place.

He watched Victor drink more hot chocolate and waited for the man to say something. He studied the curve of Victor’s lips and the line of his nose. _Is this why you’re so lonely? Because you are so ridiculously beautiful that no one dare approach you?_

He marvelled at his own bravery, but he’d been so devastated by the sight of Victor’s loneliness that when the man appeared before him for a third time, he grabbed his chance too terrified that it would be the last one he’d get.

He wanted to know more about Victor, but asking questions directly didn’t feel right. You couldn’t just ask someone why they were lonely, so Yuuri tried to be sneaky about it. “Sorry, if I’m keeping you from something. I should’ve asked up front.” After what he’d seen, this felt like a good hook.

“It’s ok,” Victor reassured him, just as Yuuri had expected. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“I won’t keep you up late,” Yuuri promised, “just in case you need to get up early.”

“Thank you.”

Yuuri waited for something more. Would Victor admit that he needed to wake up early? Would he explain what for?

But Victor sipped his hot chocolate without elaborating.

“Do you need to get up early tomorrow?” Yuuri asked, really desperate now.

“I usually do,” Victor admitted. “I need to get a lot done, so rising early helps. Plus, I’m not very good at staying up late.”

Yuuri catalogued that information for later, berated himself for doing that and dropped the subject before he could embarrass himself further.

Victor lowered his cup and placed his hand on the table next to it. His shoulders bunched up in the same way Yuuri had seen them do before.

Without thinking, Yuuri reached out and placed his hand over Victor’s.

A jolt passed through Victor’s body ad he stared down at their joined hands in surprise.

Yuuri snatched his hand away. “Sorry.” He coloured in embarrassment. What kind of person would Victor take him for now?

“It’s alright,” Victor reassured him. “I…uh…” He stared down at his own hand. “It’s just that it’s been a long time since someone held my hand. I forgot how nice it feels.”

Yuuri reached out and gently placed his hand over Victor’s again.

Victor closed his eyes and let out a slow breath.

Handholding had never been this intimate for Yuuri before, but in that moment he couldn’t help feeling as if it was a deeply sexual act. He kept his hand still, forcing himself not to rub his fingers over Victor’s. He wasn’t sure how the man would react to that.

Finally Victor opened his eyes and looked at Yuuri. “You must think I’m really weird.”

“I don’t think you’re weird.” _Only very lonely._ Yuuri took his hand away slowly and sipped his hot chocolate. “It’s good to have someone to hold your hand.”

“Yeah,” Victor sighed, looking relieved. He removed his hand off the table.

Yuuri finished his drink and tried to think of something else to say, but all he could think about were Victor’s words. _It’s been a long time since someone held my hand._

Didn’t he have siblings, or parents, or some sort of relatives to hold his hand?

Yuuri thought about his own parents and sister and realized that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d held their hands.

He wanted to reach out again, but he was afraid that Victor wouldn’t reach back. He took a deep breath. It was probably getting late and he’d promised not to keep Victor up for long. “Let’s go?” Hope poked its head out of that question. Victor could decide not to go just yet and stay here a little longer.

“Let’s go,” Victor agreed. He rose from his seat with the words, “I’ll pay for both of us,” and went to the barista.

Yuuri wished he could insist on splitting the bill, but the truth was: he couldn’t turn something like this down, so he sat and waited for Victor to come back.

Then, an idea occurred to him. He rose from his chair and stepped over to Victor’s just as the man walked back. Victor gave him a faintly puzzled look.

Yuuri held Victor’s coat. “May I?”

Victor nodded and stepped up to Yuuri, turning around so he could put his arms in the coat’s sleeves. Yuuri caught a faint whiff of Victor’s cologne as the man’s neck came within centimeters of Yuuri’s nose.

“Thank you,” Yuuri whispered.

Victor turned to face him and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks. “For what?”

“For keeping me company,” Yuuri answered simply.

“Let me walk you home,” Victor offered. He picked up his scarf and draped it around his neck.

 _I was worried you wouldn’t ask,_ Yuuri thought and felt a little embarrassed of that thought too. “Thank you.”

Victor stepped back. His eye fell on Yuuri’s coat and then he looked away as if he didn’t dare make Yuuri the same offer he’d made Victor.

Yuuri dressed himself, pretending he wasn’t thinking about Victor helping him into his coat the whole time.

Ready at last to face the cold, they stepped out into the street.

Yuuri reached out and took Victor’s hand. He saw Victor start and then meet Yuuri’s eye with a smile.

They walked together, hand in hand, and, for a moment, Yuuri felt as if everything was right in the world and nothing could possibly go wrong. The feeling didn’t last, however: as soon as they reached Yuuri’s apartment building they both stopped and Yuuri thought sadly of their separation.

Still they held on.

Yuuri turned to face Victor. “I… um…” he stared down at their joined hands. Victor clung on as if his life depended on it.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” Victor whispered.

Their eyes met.

“I’m free tomorrow,” Yuuri answered. “In the evening, I mean,” he added, remembering the practice he still had to attend. “Where do you want to meet?”

“What about here? At …um… Does seven in the evening work for you?” Victor offered.

Yuuri would’ve gladly insisted on meeting earlier than that, but he decided not to push too hard. Maybe Victor had plans for earlier in the day. He probably had work, or did whatever he usually did to occupy his time. “Seven works just fine for me,” Yuuri replied with ease and then marvelled at himself. He barely knew Victor and already he was so eager to see him again. What kind of person did that make him? He wasn’t sure.

“I’ll see you then,” Victor promised. He lowered his eyes and stared at their joined hands, as if their closeness really surprised him. Slowly he eased his hold and slid his fingers away.

Why was it so hard to let go? Yuuri resisted the urge to snatch Victor’s hand and told himself that this was no big deal. They would see each other tomorrow, he reminded himself.

With great difficulty, he stepped away. He wished Victor a good night and walked to his apartment building. Once he was inside, he turned around.

Victor raised his hand and gave a little wave.

Yuuri waved back. He turned away and made for the staircase. He went up to his floor and stopped at the first window he knew would point in Victor’s direction.

A solitary figure walked away down the street, almost blending in with its surroundings. Yuuri watched Victor go until he vanished around a corner.

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the glass. Tomorrow.


	2. Victor’s Apartment

The next day dawned, pale and gray. It was the end of November – that bleak time of the year that so often isn’t fall or winter. The trees had already shed all their leaves, but the first snow hadn’t fallen yet.

Yuuri went to practice, willing it to go by faster. The remaining performances of Onegin would be without him, which meant that he could start preparing for the Nutcracker.

The Nutcracker was a challenging ballet for him, despite the many times he’d performed the role. But over the years he had developed a method for preparing for the performance. He did his best to focus on it now.

Being a principal dancer came with many advantages. Apart from the obvious ones (higher pay, more interesting parts, getting a chance to stand out in front of an audience), there was an extra bonus: the ballet company provided the principal dancers with their own ballet studio, separate from everyone else. Yuuri remembered all too well how awkward it had been to share a small space with at least two dozen dancers at a time, but now he trained with a much smaller group.

There was Phichit Chulanont – the principal dancer who alternated for the same role with Yuuri. His dancing tended to have lots of flair and the audience loved him for it. He was a few years younger than Yuuri and had been promoted to principal dancer only recently.

Yuuri’s partner on the stage was a passionate ballet dancer named Mila Babicheva, while Phichit’s was the equally passionate Sara Crispino. Normally, people would’ve started rumours about Yuuri and Mila as well as rumours about Phichit and Sara, but Mila beat all the rumours ahead of time by dating Sara and making sure everyone knew they were going out. Sure, every evening Sara would pretend to fall in love with Phichit, or Mila would pretend to fall in love with Yuuri, but this was ballet were love tended to be pure and chaste. Sure the audience bought it every time, but anyone who’d ever seen Mila flirt with Sara and then make out with her afterwards, wasn’t fooled. This was why the other dancers did the logical thing and spread rumours about Yuuri and Phichit instead.

Yuuri had dated several ballet dancers (including both the male and female ones). In fact, he’d dated both Elena and Alexander, who played the parts of Tatiana and Onegin in the ballet with him. Yuuri often thought about this. He also marvelled at how lucky he was that the dating hadn’t affected their performance and all the dancers can’t be very professional to each other. But Yuuri had never dated Phichit, which was why he wondered how anyone believed the rumours about the two of them.

That morning Phichit was still rehearsing the part of Lensky while Yuuri pretended that all his thoughts were on the Nutcracker.

Yuuri jumped, landed wrong and winced.

“What’s wrong?” Phichit asked.

“What do you mean?” Yuuri asked, looking around himself. “Did something happen?”

“I mean with you – for you?” Phichit tried to correct himself mid-sentence. “That came out wrong, sorry. Did something happen? You look very spaced out.”

Yuuri coloured at getting caught out. “Am I?”

“Yep,” Phichit nodded. “If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought you were nervous before a performance.”

Yuuri sighed. “It’s something else.”

“Is it a secret?” Phichit stood in front of the bar, his hands gripping it behind him and studied Yuuri’s face thoroughly.

Phichit and Yuuri were close, but Yuuri wasn’t sure if they really qualified as friends, especially ones who shared their deepest secrets. He barely knew Victor and he wasn’t prepared to share what little he did. The only trouble was: Phichit was notoriously good at getting secrets out of people.

“It _is_ a secret,” Yuuri decided. He saw Phichit’s eyes light up with curiosity and his mouth open to ask more questions and intercepted everything with, “One I don’t really know myself. I’d rather not discuss it. Not yet, at least.” That last bit was there just to make Phichit happy. It was a half-promise to tell him later, one Yuuri could probably retract if he really wanted to.

“Alright, keep it to yourself,” Phichit elbowed him lightly, “but if ever you need someone to listen, then I hope you’ll remember that I’m always here.”

 _And how much of what I tell you will become known to all the other ballet dancers?_ Yuuri wondered. He didn’t voice this thought, of course, and merely thanked Phichit for the offer, while in his mind he was grateful that the other dancers in the room were far enough away to not hear any of this conversation.

He had to keep reminding himself that all this might come to nothing, which would make it even more foolish to share his meetings with Victor.

Victor.

Yuuri stood in front of a mirror and stretched. He wasn’t focused enough for jumps, so it made sense to go back to basic exercises.

His memory presented him with an image of Victor from their time together at the café, as if it had taken an old photograph out of a drawer. He thought of the man’s shoulders and the way his short hair ended at the top of his neck. He remembered how warm the man’s hand was and how good it felt to hold it. Victor was special.

Yuuri closed his eyes and then opened them again to stare at his reflection. What did Victor see when he looked at Yuuri? Did he see all his insecurities and little fears? He closed his eyes again and let out a slow breath.

He had to stop thinking about Victor. If there was one thing all his dating had taught him it was that getting very excited about something at the very start only made it harder to deal with being letdown afterwards.

The day dragged on slower than usual. When evening came at last the principal dancers went their separate ways.

As Yuuri got dressed, he thought for the hundredth time about Victor. He kept wondering what was hiding beneath such handsome features. A worrying thought occurred to him then: what if Victor learned more about Yuuri and decided that he didn’t like what he saw?

He had to stop himself there. He knew he had a bad habit of going into all kinds of “what if scenarios” in his head and might go mad if he didn’t stop himself in time. He had to hope things would turn out alright.

 _Oh god, am I in love with him already?_ Yuuri asked himself as he stepped outside into the cold, biting wind.

 _No,_ he answered himself after several minutes of deep thinking. _He’s interesting and handsome, but I’m_ not _in love. I’m sure of this. Mostly sure._

He stopped and thought harder about this.

_Definitely sure._

He spent the time he had left until his date – was it a date? – with Victor doing chores in the apartment and cooking something to eat. Then he spent a whole hour getting ready.

Yuuri remembered all too well how his old dates had gone: mostly they’d get physical way too fast with not a lot of time outs for breathing and a bit of thinking. If by the end of the second date Yuuri didn’t end up leaving with a faint feeling of disgust, he’d arrange a third date at a very romantic spot with the understanding that they’d spend the night that followed together too. Sometimes they’d sleep together after the fourth or fifth night, but the pattern generally remained the same. Usually it all hung on that second day.

This time Yuuri went to their second date, wondering if it was a date and if their time together over hot chocolate counted as their first date.

He locked the door to his apartment, made a few steps and stopped at a window facing the street. Sure enough, there was a solitary figure waiting downstairs.

Yuuri rushed down the stairs, at once worried he wasn’t moving fast enough and terrified of falling down and breaking something.

Finally the steps ended and he could escape out into the street through the front door.

“Good evening.” Victor was in the same long black coat and white scarf from before. There was a little box in his hand.

Yuuri forced his eyes back to Victor’s face. “Hello. Did you wait long?”

“No, I just got here,” Victor reassured him.

“Where do you want to go this time?” Yuuri asked, still carefully avoiding looking at the package.

“I don’t know… Oh! This is for you!” Victor held out the package. His cheeks turned a pale pink. “It’s chocolate. I hope you like it.”

Yuuri accepted the present with one hand and caught Victor’s outstretched and now empty hand with his other. “Thank you.”

For a moment, Victor looked lost and Yuuri regretted what he’d done. It had come without thinking. One of the men he’d dated was very good at flirting and charming his date and Yuuri realized that he’d picked up the man’s habits without thinking.

Victor squeezed Yuuri’s hand. “Thank you.”

Who knows how long they would’ve stood together like this? Possibly forever, until the world ended and there was nothing but dust. Alas, in that moment someone pushed past them, shouting obscenities and breaking the spell.

Yuuri bit down his own curse as he stared with frustration after the one who’d interrupted them so rudely.

“Um…”

And then he noticed that his chest was a few centimeters away from Victor’s and that one of Victor’s arms was circled protectively around him, not daring to touch Yuuri. “Sorry.” He stepped away and then cursed the passerby again. He wasn’t sure he could summon the courage to take Victor’s hand again.

 _Victor’s hands are so warm_. The thought went round and round in his head and he found himself sneaking glances at Victor’s hand very couple of steps.

After a dozen glances, he realized what he was doing and forced himself to look into Victor’s eyes and talk like a normal human being. “Where will we go this time?” Yuuri asked, repeating his earlier question.

“I don’t have any ideas, to be honest,” Victor confessed. “I don’t… um….” His voice trailed off, not finishing the sentence, but Yuuri understood.

_I don’t usually go out on dates._

“We have lots of choice,” he began, trying to sound as if all this was no big deal. “We can take a walk together, or go see a movie, or go out to eat somewhere – did you eat?” he interrupted himself, remembering what time it was.

“No,” Victor admitted.

“Let’s go eat something, then,” Yuuri offered as his heart sank in his chest. Eating out was one luxury he couldn’t afford.

“But what about you? Did you eat already?” Victor asked in turn.

“A little,” Yuuri replied, feeling Victor’s gaze on him.

“We don’t have to do this,” Victor pointed out. “I can always eat later. At home. I actually bought ingredients for dinner already,” he admitted.

This was much better. “Then (if you don’t mind) we can go make dinner at your place.” He started off hesitantly, wondering how Victor would react to this, but by the time he reached the end of the sentence he realized that he really wanted Victor to say yes.

“You don’t have to do all that for me,” Victor protested.

Yuuri put a hand on his arm. “I want to do all that for you,” he countered and then wondered if that last sentence counted as flirting or not.

Victor raised his free hand. It hovered over Yuuri’s hand and they both stared at it, as if it belonged to someone else. “Thank you.”

Still Victor didn’t lower his hand.

Desperate for that contact, Yuuri slid his hand down Victor’s arm and caught Victor’s fingers with his own.

Yuuri forgot all about the blistery cold wind. He barely spared a glance for their surroundings as Victor led the way. All that mattered was that they stayed together. For the first time in a long while, Yuuri felt his worries fade away. Was this what it felt like to be close friends with someone?

As they came up the drive of a tall apartment building, Yuuri said to Victor, “Will you be my friend, Victor?”

“What?” A look of genuine surprise appeared on Victor’s face.

“Will you be my friend?” Yuuri repeated, feeling foolish. “We can look after each other.” Was that too forward? Would Victor realize that Yuuri was worrying about him and get offended at his?

But, no, instead of getting offended by this idea, Victor was thrilled by it. “Yes, please,” he agreed and then laughed.

Yuuri allowed himself a little laugh as well.

The decision made, they entered Victor’s apartment building. Yuuri continued to follow Victor as if in a daze until, at last, they got to Victor’s actual apartment and the door swung open to reveal the collection of rooms that was his and no one else’s.

Yuuri looked around, curious to see where Victor lived. It was spotless and it didn’t look like a place where someone spent a lot of time. He removed his shoes and all his outer layers before stepping into the living room.

There was a big TV here, bookshelves full of books, a brand new sofa with a coffee table. There were even paintings on the walls. It all looked like a room from a magazine and not a real room where real people lived.

Yuuri stepped towards the windows and caught sight of the view out. Back in Yuuri’s apartment, all the windows opened out onto an inner courtyard that was full of garbage containers. Victor’s apartment had the kind of city view people usually paid extra for.

Yuuri turned away from the window and stared at Victor. The man obviously had a lot more money than Yuuri did. The thought stirred something unpleasant in the pit of Yuuri’s stomach.

“What did you want to make for dinner?” he asked, making for the kitchen and pushing all thoughts of money to the back of his mind.

Unlike the living room, the kitchen looked like it was actually used. But even here, Yuuri saw signs of Victor’s money. The drawers were full of all kinds of utensils and tools. A blender sat on the counter and Yuuri gave it a quick jealous glance. He’d once spent a good hour staring longingly at one just like it in a store window.

“I wanted to make spaghetti with seafood,” Victor admitted. “I found a good recipe online.”

To Yuuri’s surprise, Victor produced fresh seafood from this fridge and then got a box of pasta from one of the cupboards.

Yuuri did his best to smile and look as if he regularly ate seafood and that, really, there was nothing extraordinary about seafood. Deep down, he suspected that Victor straight throw him and didn’t say anything because he was polite.

Victor found the recipe he’d referred to on his phone and they stood side by side as they both tried to read what they had to do.

Victor filed a pot with water and put it on the stove.

“What do you want me to do?” Yuuri asked, desperate to be useful and terrified of getting in the way.

“We’ll need to make a sauce and get the seafood ready…” Victor explained with a hint of uncertainty in his voice. He frowned at the recipe. “Not sure I agree with the sauce they picked.”

Realizing that Victor was offering him a choice, Yuuri acted quickly. “I can make the sauce,” he volunteered, hoping he’d picked the harder task. Too late, he realized that he may have made a mistake. “If you… um… if you tell me how you want it made,” he added and cringed inwardly.

“Thank you,” Victor said with a little nod. “I think I know what would work better. I’ll tell you what to do.”

Yuuri stood with his hands joined behind his back as Victor explained what needed to be done. He opened a drawer and a cupboard to get a stirring spoon and a pot for Yuuri. Once he found both, he held them out with both hands.

Yuuri accepted both items, the tips of his fingers sliding over Victor’s hands.

Their eyes met. An eternity passed and they let each other go. Some tension drained out of the atmosphere after that.

They worked on their parts of the dish, standing side by side and passing the ingredients over to each other.

“You can pour the sauce now,” Victor said.

Yuuri stepped towards him just as Victor stepped back. Their shoulders touched for a mere second and then Yuuri was standing at the stove and pouring sauce and trying desperately _not_ to think.

He finished, stepped back and collided with Victor.

“Sorry,” Victor backed away.

Yuuri stepped off to the side.

“I can do this next part,” Victor said in a voice that was almost a whisper.

“I need…” _to be alone,_ Yuuri thought. “…to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back. I promise.” He forced himself to use, slow measured steps as he walked, even though he wanted desperately to sprint out of the room as fast as his legs would carry him.

Once he was out of the kitchen, it was through the unused living room and out into a short corridor that was lined with doors on either sides.

The first door was open and led to Victor’s bedroom. Yuuri looked away hastily, feeling like an intruder. The next door was closed and, in his confusion and embarrassment, Yuuri opened it wide and walked in before he was sure he’d found the bathroom.

It wasn’t a bathroom, but a storage closet.

Maybe if Yuuri hadn’t stepped in, he would’ve never found out. Maybe then things would’ve been very different. Afterwards, Yuuri often wondered how much of his life depended on the mere order of rooms in Victor’s apartment.

The storage closet gleamed, not because it was empty and spotlessly clean, but because it was filled with shiny objects. For one mad moment Yuuri – his head still spinning from the collision in the kitchen and the thought of Victor’s bedroom so close – thought he’d stumbled into a treasure chest. And then his mind made sense of what his eyes were seeing.

Medals. The closet’s shelves were covered with display cases filled with medals and – with the exception of two – they were all filling the closet with a warm golden light.

Yuuri knew he had to step out, close the door, and act as if he hadn’t seen anything, but curiosity forced him to step forward and take a closer look.

There was writing engraved into the medals. Some of them even had engraved images.

World Figure Skating Championship

European Figure Skating Championship

Olympic Games Figure Skating

World

World

European

Russian Nationals

Gold

Gold

Gold

Yuuri’s eyes darted over the shelves. He caught the common denominator quickly: figure skating. Victor was a figure skating champion. In everything. The medals had different years and different cities engraved into them.

Victor had arranged them by competition type, but it didn’t take long to spot the oldest medal and then the newest. There were ten years of winning first place in what looked like every figure skating competition imaginable.

Yuuri stepped back and closed the door. He made for the bathroom where he washed his face with ice-cold water. He raised his head and stared at his reflection.

_Don’t panic._

Victor was a figure skating champion.

Yuuri’s stomach did a little pirouette and for a moment he was convinced that he would be sick.

A _champion_. And he was all too obviously suffering from loneliness.

_What do I do now?_

A knock came on the door. “Sorry, Yuuri,” Victor called, the same Victor who had won all those medals, because why would he keep them, if they weren’t his?

Yuuri was panicking. Victor was asking him something and Yuuri couldn’t understand a word now.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Yuuri shouted back, hoping that was the right answer.

He stared at his reflection again.

So Victor was a champion. He was also very lonely and Yuuri wasn’t going to spend the whole evening in here. He was going to eat the food they’d cooked together and then go home and think about things.

He was going to eat dinner with _Victor_!

Yuuri washed his face with cold water again, drew in a big breath and stepped out of the bathroom, almost walking into Victor himself. “Sorry!”

“Sorry. You… I… I got worried that something was wrong…” Victor stammered out and then a smile lit up his face. “Dinner is ready!”

Yuuri let himself get led away back to the kitchen, where the scent of food hit his nose. Had it smelled this good before he’d left the kitchen?

He helped Victor set the table, throwing several anxious glances his way.

Yuuri had met a champion gymnast once. The man had been arrogant to the point of trying everyone’s patience.

After the gymnast, Yuuri had assumed that all champions were arrogant and hard to deal with. Now, seeing how anxiously Victor watched him take the first bite, Yuuri found it hard to believe that the person before him had won so many competitions.

Maybe they weren’t Victor’s after all. Maybe he’d just imagined them.

After dinner he slipped away to the bathroom to get another peak at the medals.

He froze with his hand on the door handle. Of _course_ they were Victor’s. They had to be. Why else would they be here? Besides, he’d seen the year on one of the latest medals, which told him that Victor had won it sometime _this_ year…

_That figure skating season was a big disappointment for a lot of fans – it brought with it no surprises, the new favourite only made it to fourth place and there were no big dramas to gossip about and make the season more memorable._

_Or so, Christophe Giacometti – Switzerland’s champion in men’s singles – thought as he gazed out at the audience. Victor Nikiforov, many-many times champion of everything stood on one side of him. On Victor’s other side was Jean Jacques from Canada._

_Chris was not the kind of person to blame his failure on the judges. He knew exactly where he stood relative to the other skaters and that was many, many steps below Victor Nikiforov. While Chris could land two quads in a competition, Victor could jump four different ones. Chris got them over with at the start and Victor stuck them in the second half, winning extra points. Finally, Victor’s total score had been over 300 points, while Chris just barely made it past 290 points. Sure, officially, on paper, Chris was in second place, but when he’d seen how Victor skated he felt like his own skating was at best worthy of fourth place._

_Chris threw a sideways glance at Victor. The champion had a cold smile on his face that was obviously only there for the photos and not to show his joy at winning yet another gold medal._

He’s bored with us, _Chris thought for the millionth time._ He can go out on the ice, fall asleep and still win a gold medal. How does he do it?

_Victor didn’t attend banquets. He didn’t go to dinners with other skaters. The only person Chris had ever seen him talk to was his coach. Victor obviously wanted nothing to do with all these skaters who presented no competition for him. Victor’s coach was the one who attended the press conferences in his place. Not that this bothered the press in the slightest – they’d all lost interest in Victor ages ago. Decades ago._

_Worse than that, Victor’s programs were all delivered with the cold precision of a robot that had heard of emotions once, but had never mastered them._

Arrogant and with all the personality of a piece of cardboard, _Chris thought,_ and he’s the one who wins. Life is just so unfair.

_Chris loved to flirt with the audience. He poured his whole heart into every performance. He loved listening to the cheers and blowing kisses in return. He loved to make the fans swoon. Victor skated as if it didn’t matter if the stands were full or empty, or if they were shouting encouragement or obscenities._

There’s got to be a way to beat him, _Chris thought._ I can’t just wait for him to retire just so I can get a gold medal. The man looks like he can do this forever.

_When Chris had been in juniors, he’d looked up to Victor. The skater broke world records time and again until everyone lost count of the number of times he’d done it. But all it had taken was one encounter to see that Victor was cold and distant. And Chris, who hated clichés, found himself proving one of the oldest ones: you should never meet your heroes._

_Chris watched Victor step off the podium and walk away, back to being alone and far away from everyone else and he wondered how anyone could do that…_

Victor sat across the table from Yuuri, enveloped in warmth. How was it possible that something as small as holding another person’s hand could feel this good? Or that cooking together with someone made the food impossibly delicious?

Yuuri closed his eyes and hummed gently. “This is _so good_! I can’t remember the last time I ate something that was this delicious!” he exclaimed in a low voice.

Victor felt a little embarrassed. “It’s all because – well, because you helped me make it. You got the sauce just right. That’s the trick.” The smile on his face froze as he saw Yuuri open his eyes and rest his chin on his hand.

 _I can reach out and take his hand now,_ he thought. _But what if it’s weird? Yuuri is probably hungry. He can’t eat if I hold his hand!_

“What are you thinking about?” Yuuri asked.

There were probably lots of good answers to that question, but Victor’s mouth overrode his brain and blurted out the truth, “I was thinking that I want to hold your hand again.”

Yuuri blinked at Victor.

Victor cringed. “Sorry… that was… stupid.” _And awkward and weird. God, what’s wrong with me? I finally make a friend and I act all weird around him!_

Yuuri reached out with his right hand and caught Victor’s left. “Like this?”

“Yeah…” Victor whispered.

Victor stared into Yuuri’s face, captivated by what he was seeing. In the bright light of the kitchen he was noticing little details of Yuuri’s face he’d never noticed before. He took them all in hungrily, wishing he could capture them all somehow.

Then he remembered that they were supposed to be eating dinner. “You don’t have to hold my hand,” he protested faintly.

“I want to,” Yuuri insisted.

“But you haven’t finished eating!” Were they really arguing about holding hands?

“I know. I can continue eating,” Yuuri declared.

“Really? How?” Victor prepared to let Yuuri’s hand go.

“Like this.” Yuuri took the fork with his left hand and looped several long strands of spaghetti around it. He obviously struggled with his left hand and Victor wanted to point this out, but he didn’t have the heart for it. His heart filled with gratitude to Yuuri for doing this for him.

After dinner, they washed the dishes together, standing side by side, just mere centimeters apart, and Victor found himself wishing they could hold hands for this too.

Yuuri dried his hands and turned to face Victor. “It’s getting late,” he pointed out, leaning a little against the counter. “I should go home.”

“I’ll walk you home,” Victor announced with barely a moment to think.

There was so much warmth in Yuuri’s face at those words, as if he’d been waiting for Victor to make the offer and was no extremely glad that he had. In a wave of brilliance, Victor remembered how last time Yuuri had helped him into his coat and went to fetch Yuuri’s.

Yuuri followed him. Seeing what Victor intended, he turned around and Victor froze. Suddenly it was impossible to move, as if someone had tied him in place. Why was it always so hard to cope with being so close to Yuuri?

With a great deal of effort, he raised the coat to Yuuri’s shoulders and watched him slide his arms into the sleeves.

Yuuri turned to face him and Victor stepped back.

He was filled with the sudden wish to wrap the scarf around Yuuri’s neck and adjust his hat. But he knew that this would just be intruding into Yuuri’s personal space and he didn’t want Yuuri to feel uncomfortable around him.

But then Yuuri returned the favour. He held up Victor’s coat, let him turn around and helped him put it on. Victor turned again to face Yuuri and the dancer reached out to flatted down the lapels of Victor’s coat.

Victor barely dared to breathe.

Yuuri got Victor’s scarf from the shelf and looped it twice around Victor’s neck. “There,” he whispered, his face wonderfully close to Victor’s as his fingertips pressed against the ends of the scarf, “now you’ll stay warm outside.”

A moment passed and Yuuri stepped away. Then he held out his hand. “Let’s go?”

The walk back to Yuuri’s apartment had been magical right up until the moment when they had to separate. They stood in front of Yuuri’s building, unable to summon the strength for a goodbye.

 _It’s getting late and Victor still has to walk back._ Yuuri thought. _He has to wake up early tomorrow._ The next thought dropped on Yuuri like a bucket of ice-cold water, _so he can train to win another gold medal._

It took all his mental strength to put on a smile. “We can meet at your house tomorrow,” he offered, “and make dinner again. If you want.”

Victor’s face fell. “I can’t tomorrow.”

The disappointment that followed those words stung hard. Yuuri bit his lip and worried that he’d done something wrong and that this was a sign that Victor didn’t want to see him anymore.

“I made plans,” Victor went on with barely a pause. “Sorry. But I’m free the day after that!”

Yuuri’s expression brightened. He’d worried for nothing! Victor still wanted to see him. “Great! Um… maybe we can exchange numbers? Just in case?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tried not to think about how old and battered it was.

Victor got his own phone out. “Yes, of course! Do you want to tell me first? Or should I…?”

Yuuri’s eye fell on a screen that only had three contacts.

_Mom_

_Dad_

_Yakov_

He raised his head and pretended he hadn’t seen anything. “Yes, of course!”

His own contacts list wasn’t much longer than Victor’s. It had a few useful numbers, which he’d saved just in case, but which he’d barely had the chance to use.

After they exchanged numbers there was nothing left to do, but to go their separate ways.

“See you the day after tomorrow,” Yuuri said.

“Yes… the day after tomorrow,” Victor echoed.

They stood in front of each other, as if about to do something other than walk away. But, unable to settle on anything else, Yuuri made for his apartment building with a very heavy heart.

He turned back more than once to give a little wave and, once he was finally inside, he ran to the first window facing out onto the street and watched Victor turn and walk away slowly, each step carefully measured.

As soon as Victor disappeared around a corner, Yuuri rushed up the stairs to his apartment. He did his best to ignore his cheap furniture and mostly empty rooms. Away from the world and people’s prying eyes, he opened Google and typed “figure skater Victor” into the search bar.

12 776 532 results.

The very first was Victor’s Wikipedia page. Yuuri clicked on it and words like “living legend” and “world record” as well as “most decorated athlete of all time” leapt out and made a grab for his attention. There was also a photo of Victor from a competition, wearing a figure skating costume and a gold medal around his neck as he smiled for the camera.

There was no doubt about it: Victor had won all those medals himself, all while being the loneliest person Yuuri had ever met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is a little hectic nowadays, so I don't get a chance to update as often as I'd like...


	3. Other People

The internet was full of videos of Victor skating. There were several videos for every single competition he’d participated in over the years. There were even older videos of him as a child – small and extremely adorable. Yuuri held his breath as he watched Victor do things that impressed everyone, including the judges.

 _What happened? Why are you so lonely? Surely, there must’ve been a time when you weren’t like that?_ Yuuri wondered, but none of the videos he found could answer any of those questions.

He sat on the bed in his room and watched the videos one by one. There was no way he could go through all of them in one evening, he knew, so he kept an eye on the time to make sure he didn’t get carried away. He only had time to watch another routine before he had to go to sleep.

That night he lay in bed and thought about Victor, lonely and touch-starved Victor. He put his hands over his face. _But so am I,_ he suddenly thought. _How am I any different from him?_

How many people were there out there whose hearts were breaking from loneliness? How many people longed for something as simple as having a person in their life to hold their hand?

The next morning Yuuri thought again about loneliness during practice. He’d dated people as a way to keep that loneliness away, but maybe a good friend was a better option. That way he’d avoid all the heartbreak and drama that came with dating.

He spent the whole day lost in sad thoughts and, so, the end of practice caught him by surprise.

Yuuri returned to the change room and pulled out his phone to discover that Victor had texted him about an hour earlier.

_I bought some apples. Let’s make apple pie?_

_Sounds great!_ Yuuri typed. He hesitated, removed the exclamation mark and changed “great” to “good”. That was a normal response, right?

The door to the change room opened and a part of a conversation filled the room, followed closely by the speaker.

“…the day after tomorrow. Can you make it?” Yuuri recognized Phichit’s voice.

He raised his head, saw that Phichit was on the phone with someone and lowered his head again. His private life was none of Yuuri’s business. He did his best to tune the conversation out, but there was no sound other than Phichit’s voice, which made the task impossible.

It didn’t take long to figure out that the ballet dancer was making plans to go to a concert with whoever he was on the phone with.

“I know!” Phichit exclaimed louder than before, starling Yuuri. “Isn’t it amazing that we’ll get to actually see her _in person_? Listening to recordings is just not the same!”

Yuuri’s phone vibrated as another text came from Victor.

_I’m glad. Come whenever you can. I’m already home._

Yuuri finished changing, stuffed all his things hastily into his bag and ran out. He didn’t want to keep Victor waiting. On his way there, his memory replayed Phichit’s last words for him, as if his mind was a tape that got stuck on that last little bit and he wondered why it picked those words specifically out of all the words he’d heard.

He stopped by his apartment and rushed off to Victor’s.

This time Victor had cooked and backed everything before Yuuri got there and they sat down to eat right away.

Yuuri felt guilty for all the trouble he’d caused Victor, but how could he make up for it? He didn’t dare invite Victor over and he couldn’t afford the ingredients Victor had cooked with.

“Next time it’s my turn to do the cooking,” Yuuri declared as soon as the idea occurred to him.

“You really don’t have to,” Victor tried to protest.

Yuuri put his hand over Victors. “I want to,” he said simply.

Victor stared at Yuuri’s hand for several seconds before biting his lip and nodding.

Afterwards they sat in silence, but it was the comfortable kind and Yuuri found himself enjoying every minute. All in all, the date – if such it was - wasn’t a very exciting one, but Yuuri found that he didn’t mind in the slightest.

The pattern repeated over and over again. Some evenings Victor was busy and for a few of the evenings Yuuri would stay late for practice, but on those other days they would meet as soon as they were both free and spend the evening eating dinner at Victor’s house.

Two weeks went by in this way without either of them suggesting that they go or do something else, or showing any sign of getting bored with this new routine.

On his evenings alone, Yuuri worked his way steadily through all of Victor’s skating videos.

At long last, the day came when he ran out of routines to watch. He sat in his room, the laptop open in front of him and an empty feeling in his heart, wondering what he was supposed to do next.

And then Phichit’s words came back to him once more. _“Isn’t it amazing that we’ll get to actually see her in person? Listening to recordings is just not the same!”_

He wanted to see Victor skate in person. There it was – the thought that had been in the back of his mind all this time. He wanted to sit in the audience and cheer loudly for him. He wanted to see his scores go up and know he set another world record.

And afterwards?

And afterwards he wanted to tell Victor how amazing he’d been. He wanted to show him that what he’d done was incredible and unbelievable and deserved all the praise in the world. Maybe the gold medal wasn’t getting the message across anymore, but Yuuri would try to find the right words –

He had to stop himself there and laugh. How could _any_ of his words be better than a gold medal?

He sat miserably for several minutes before he remembered his earlier idea to go see Victor skate, but a quick search online told him that the next figure skating competition was going to be in Italy and that he could barely afford the tickets, never mind the flight and the accommodation. In other words – there was no way for him to go see Victor skate in person without first winning the lottery.

Yuuri sighed. He should’ve known that things wouldn’t be that easy for him. Other people were lucky enough that everything lined up just right for them, but not for Yuuri. He had to accept what he was given and be happy with it.

Feeling discouraged by this, Yuuri headed straight for the bed.

_There were so many people around him. He turned his head this way and that. All he could see in either direction were people. People’s heads seemed to float above the crowd. They were all laughing and crying._

_Gradually the noise was replaced by rhythmic chanting. “Victor! Victor! Victor!”_

_Yuuri turned his head and saw that there was a rink in front of him. It was at once small and large, but Yuuri didn’t question how this could be._

_Victor skated out onto the ice._

_“Victor!” Yuuri shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the chanting._

_“Victor!” the audience screamed as one._

_The skater turned and gave a bow._

_“Amazing!” someone next to Yuuri shouted. “I’ve been to all his competitions and he astounds me every time!”_

_Yuuri stared in surprise, suddenly realizing that he’d somehow missed Victor’s skate._

_“Victor!” everyone continued to chant around him. “Victor!”_

_Yuuri was silent._

_Victor turned away and left the ice. His shoulders were lowered and his head was bowed. Yuuri could see the loneliness eating him up from the inside._

_He tried to move to him, but he was trapped in the crowd. People stood on all sides of him like a wall. Only then did he notice that everyone was standing. There were no seats in this arena._

_Every person in the audience turned their heads to face Yuuri. There were hostile expressions on their faces and Yuuri knew in that moment that he was trapped._

_“Victor!” Yuuri screamed._

_The crowd closed in on him._

_“Victor!” he screamed again, sounding more desperate than before._

_But still they chanted the skater’s name and he knew that Victor would never hear him. “Victor! Victor! Victor!” they repeated over and over again as they came closer._

_He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t…_

Yuuri awoke with a start.

He was in his own bed. In his tiny and cheap apartment. He was _safe_.

He let out a long breath and sat up.

It had just been a nightmare and nothing more than that. Just a nightmare.

He checked the time. It was only 4 am, but he knew that there was no way he could go back to sleep now.

Yuuri rose form his bed and washed his face with cold water. He went through his usual morning routine that ended with him sitting in the kitchen and drinking coffee.

It was still dark outside. The sun would only rise in a couple of hours, which made this feel like the middle of the night.

A part of him longed to return to his room and comfortable bed, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep after a nightmare like that.

He shivered.

It was hard to forget how terrifying the crowd had been or the expressions of hate on their faces. Even now his heartbeat quickened at the mere memory. He’d been sure that they were going to kill him.

Desperate to distract himself, he pulled out his phone and played a video of one of Victor’s early routines. The sight of little Victor going around the rink brought a smile to his face. Forgetting himself, he placed his hand on the image and accidentally paused the video.

“Oh, Victor…” he whispered.

If only he could go back in time, befriend little Victor and make sure that neither of them ever felt this lonely!

And then he saw what time it was.

Yuuri snatched up his things and hurried out of his apartment, taking care to lock his door before bolting towards the stairs.

He succeeded in making it just in time before practice.

“What’s wrong?” Phichit asked.

They were on their lunch break. Yuuri had picked a spot in a corner where he’d hoped to remain unnoticed, but Phichit had found him anyway and was now standing over Yuuri’s table with a concerned expression on his face.

Several decades ago, one of the theatre’s directors had decided that all ballet dancers had to take a proper lunch break. He, and the directors who followed, paid money out of their own pockets to provide all the dancers with a full lunch that they all had to eat. Yuuri was very grateful for this, but that day he’d spent a good ten minutes shovelling his food around his plate.

“Nothing is wrong,” he lied. Why did Phichit always insist on sticking his nose in Yuuri’s life? He didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to be nice to Yuuri. Yuuri knew he had no influence over anyone, so getting on his good side was a waste of effort.

Phichit gave him a look that said plainly that he didn’t believe that and that Yuuri should stop trying to convince him. He sat down at Yuuri’s table and smiled brightly. “I’m all ears.” He acted as if Yuuri had told him that what he needed now more than ever was some good advice and here he was, ready to hand it out.

Yuuri suppressed a sigh and tried to think. He wasn’t ready to share the truth with anyone just yet, so, perhaps, a lie that was close enough to sound convincing would be just as good? “My sister is going to a…” he almost said concert, but caught himself just in time, “…figure skating competition. She wanted me to come with her, but it’s in Italy, which means I’d have to fly there and…” he hesitated, “I’m a little short on money right now.” More like always, but he didn’t want to get into that with Phichit. They both knew the pay was low. Yuuri suspected that if he started to complain about it, he would say something he really regretted.

Phichit nodded in a way that said that he understood all about Yuuri’s money troubles. “It sucks,” was his brief but very accurate summary.

Yuuri lowered his head.

“You can still stream it, though,” Phichit suggested. “The figure skating competition, I mean.”

“It won’t be the same as seeing him in person,” Yuuri said and realized too late that he’d given himself away.

“Oh yes, definitely,” Phichit agreed.

A long thoughtful silence followed those words. Finally Phichit broke it, “I _thought_ I saw Victor Nikiforov standing outside the theatre!”

Yuuri said nothing, which he realized too late gave him away more than lying would have. And then he had a treacherous thought. Phichit had been extra friendly with him lately. Was this because he’d seen Yuuri and Victor together?

No, that was a horrible thought. How could he even contemplate something like _that_?

Phichit watched Yuuri as if he could see the thoughts forming in his mind. “Your secret is safe with me, don’t worry.”

When Yuuri didn’t respond, Phichit’s expression became very serious and he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Maybe he _did_ need to talk about it with someone, but why did that someone have to be Phichit, of all people? He stared fixedly at his plate.

“Well, the offer will remain open in case you change your mind,” Phichit said and rose from his seat.

“Why are you doing this?” Yuuri asked softly, his eyes still on his plate.

“Because I want to help.” The answer came quickly, maybe even too quickly.

Yuuri raised his head and met Phichit’s eye. “I mean: why are you acting friendly towards me?”

“Does there have to be a reason?” The question had obviously caught Phichit by surprise. “Because I want to be friends with everyone. I’m a friendly guy, I thought that was obvious.” He sat back down. “And I want to be friends with you, Yuuri,” he added in a lower voice.

A bitter smile appeared on Yuuri’s lips. Friendship for him tended to end with sex, followed closely by a breakup.

“I’m serious,” Phichit insisted. “A lot of us admire you, you know.”

“Me? For what?” He finally raised his head and met Phichit’s eye. Was the man serious?

Phichit laughed. “Really? Do you really need to ask? Your dancing is beautiful, Yuuri. We all want to dance like that.”

“What?” That seemed even less probably. “But, I thought your dancing was more popular than mine!”

Phichit broke out into even more laughter. “Haven’t you noticed the difference between how the audience greet us?”

“No,” Yuuri replied, terrified of where the conversation was headed.

“Well, then, maybe it’s worth coming to one of my performances and seeing for yourself,” Phichit concluded and got up from his seat. He stepped around the table and stopped at Yuuri’s ear. “I am serious, though: I want to be your friend and I don’t mean that there will be benefits or some other nonsense, just genuine friendship.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri smiled and felt his spirits lift a little. It was flattering to hear that someone genuinely wanted to be friends with him with no ulterior motive.

Phichit gave Yuuri’s shoulder a light pat. “Besides, with a boyfriend like Victor Nikiforov, I wouldn’t stand a chance anyway.” He winked and walked away.

Yuuri’s spirits fell.

Boyfriend. In Victor’s current mental state, a boyfriend was probably the last thing he needed. At least, not if boyfriend meant what it always meant for Yuuri.

Lunchtime was almost over and Yuuri forced himself to finish his food. There was no use brooding over this. He couldn’t go to Italy, so he’d have to watch the Grand Prix Final the only other way available to him.

With Victor’s departure coming up, Yuuri wondered if the man would admit to being a skater and explain about his upcoming competition. To his surprise, all Victor said was “I can’t see you for the next four days, but I’ll be free Monday?” and left it at that.

He was stepping around the whole issue and Yuuri wondered if he knew. Maybe it was awkward, Yuuri thought as he lay in bed that night. He tried to imagine how he’d admit to it in Victor’s place and realized that there’s no way to do it without sounding at least a little bit arrogant.

 _It’s fine,_ Yuuri told himself. _He doesn’t want to talk about it. I already know, but it’s not as if I could talk about it. What would I say if he told me? “Good luck, although you probably won’t need it”?_ That sounded even worse than any confession Yuuri could think of for Victor.

So, instead, he went on as if he didn’t know. He texted Victor, trying to think of something completely not related to skating to talk about, which somehow ended up as hundred texts about dogs.

As it turned out, Victor loved dogs just as much as Yuuri did.

Friday dawned, cold and bleak.

Never had Yuuri urged practice to go by faster like this before. He knew he had to focus and that only a week was left until he had to go out onto the stage as the Nutcracker once more, but he didn’t think about that. All he could think about was Victor alone in a foreign country competing for gold with only his coach by his side.

As soon as practice ended, he ran home, terrified of missing even a minute of the stream.

He ran into his apartment, turned on his laptop and then darted between the rooms of his apartment, trying to get everything ready so he could sit on his bed and watch the competition in perfect comfort. At least he was lucky with the small time difference, he tried to tell himself and knew that he would’ve gotten up ridiculously early or stayed up super late to watch Victor compete.

He then had to live through several panicky minutes as the stream refused to work and he became convinced that his internet connection was gone forever. Finally…

“Tonight we bring you live form Turin, Italy!” a voice boomed over the speakers and Yuuri turned the volume down hastily. “For the short program of men’s figure skating!”

Yuuri had never watched a competition live before, so it came as a big surprise to him that the figure skater with the least person was the first out on the ice, while the one in first place skated last. There was nothing else to do but to sit and wait patiently for Victor’s turn to come.

He used this chance to watch the other skaters, hoping this would distract him from the anxiety rising in his stomach.

What if the judges decided that Victor didn’t deserve gold this time? What if he got nervous? What if whatever had kept him going all these years ran out?

He tried to tell himself that these were foolish, irrational fears, but that didn’t make them stop.

What if he didn’t win? What if he fell?

And then it was Victor’s turn out on the ice.

Victor stood before his coach – Yakov Feltsman, Yuuri remembered – and listened to the man talk. What was his coach saying? Were they just words of encouragement, or was it something else? And would Yuuri ever find out?

“Next on the ice – Victor Nikiforov!”

He skated away from his coach and the view changed to show stands packed to bursting. The audience clapped and cheered for the obvious favourite. They held up posters with his pictures on them, surrounded by words of encouragement. Others waved Russian flags as a show of support.

Yuuri remembered his nightmare and felt a wave of cold terror. At least when he performed the audience sat in the dark and the lights shone at his face and he never knew just how many people were watching him. He never knew until he earned his first round of applause. But this – everyone out in the open? Knowing you represented not just yourself, but your country? How did Victor do it?

Victor stopped and took his position. A familiar tune began to play.

Yakov watched his pupil, unable to shake the feeling that what he really needed was something that would act like safety net for his pupil. This couldn’t last, he knew. Cases like Victor’s were very rare – no one stayed an undefeated champion for this long. Sooner or later someone better came along, or the person collapsed under the weight of everyone’s expectations. But Victor went on as if he had a heart made of steel and, if you believed some of the nasty comments out there, you would definitely think this was the case. Only Yakov knew this wasn’t the case. Only he saw the tears and frustration as Victor gave himself away to the sport year after year.

Yakov was out of his depth here. Victor was the first – and so far the only – person to jump the quadruple flip. Victor always came with his own music and a vague idea of what he wanted to do with it, which the two of them would then refine into a gold medal program. He was, without a doubt, a very talented skater and, not finding any other competition, competed constantly with himself. But…

But Yakov was secretly terrified that a day was coming when Victor would hit his limit and that it would break him beyond anyone’s ability to repair.

He suppressed a growl. There was nothing worse than witnessing a tragedy that you know you’re helpless to prevent.

Tchaikovsky’s music began to play and Yakov’s mind returned to a question he’d voiced earlier that same year.

_“Why the Nutcracker?”_

Yuuri’s mouth dropped open. How had he missed videos of _this_ routine? It wasn’t just any music from the Nutcracker, it was _his_ music.

Whenever someone picked music from the Nutcracker it was the same couple of pieces – the Russian Dance, the Waltz of the Flowers, the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, but never a piece that he danced to. But this time…

He pulled his knees up to his chin and hugged his legs. He remembered all too well the first time he’d practiced with Mila and how his choreographer – the most graceful person Yuuri had ever met – lectured them both about how pure first love was. Mila and he had to avoid each other’s eye or risk dying of laughter.

Pure first love!

As Yuuri watched Victor spin his teacher’s words returned to him. Victor was definitely skating like someone who’d heard that lecture. Each movement was careful, as if he was handling something delicate. One element flowed gently into the next. All the elements of the skate reminded Yuuri of how Mila had moved next to him on the stage.

Yuuri lowered his knees and bent closer to the screen.

He’d first thought that Victor was skating a routine on his part of the dance, but now he saw that it in reality he’d picked Mila’s part instead. How had he not picked up on it before?

The music played louder and Victor went into another spin, changing positions partway through. The loudest note played and the music ended.

Yuuri’s face was wet.

What would it have been like to sit among the crowd and know it was Victor out there, a few steps away? He dropped his hand into his hands, as tears continued to tumble from his eyes.

The worst part was: he couldn’t tell Victor how amazing his skate had been, or so he thought, when – really – the worst part was yet to come.

Something about Victor’s skating was different this time. It was a subtle change in delivery, but it made all the difference – it no longer felt as if Victor was just going through each element in order. There was a tone now, a gentleness that Chris had never seen from him before. It made Chris wonder if something had happened.

Victor stood before the audience as they applauded him and Chris tried to read the expression on his face, but they were too far away from each other for this to be possible.

Victor bowed once in each direction and turned away to go to the kiss and cry.

There was no tension for Chris, no sense of suspense as he waited for Victor’s scores to go up. He knew Victor would get first place. After a skate like that, he deserved it. And he knew, deep down, that there was no one could ever beat Victor.

_Is this why you picked this music?_ Yakov wondered as he waited for his pupil to join him. _Who is it? Will you ever tell me?_

Victor reached the boards. His expression was unreadable even to Yakov, who’d always thought that he could read all of his pupil’s moods.

Yakov held out the skate guards and Victor took them, not meeting his coach’s eye.

_You fell in love, didn’t you?_

They walked side by side into the kiss and cry. Yakov let Victor sit down first before taking the spot next to his pupil.

Yakov often wondered who started calling it the kiss and cry and why everyone else went along with it. It wasn’t always an accurate description. In his experience, skaters didn’t often cry and even rarer were the kisses.

This time Victor sat with his shoulders hunched as Yakov considered what he ought to say. He knew he would have to have this conversation at some point, but was it alright to delay it by a little bit?

Victor trembled and, to Yakov’s astonishment, tears poured down the man’s face.

And then the coach realized, much to his embarrassment, that he had no idea what to do now. He’d never had to deal with Victor crying before and so he didn’t know if his pupil wanted to be comforted, or if he preferred to be left alone.

Alone. It was a nasty word. There were people who took it well, preferred it even, but others only thrived in the company of someone else. Up until now, Yakov had always assumed that Victor was in the first category, but what if he’d been wrong? What if Victor needed the company of others and Yakov – the coach who’d thought that Victor need his own space – had, in truth, isolated him from the world, making it impossible for Victor to come back? But hadn’t he just done what Victor had asked of him?

Except that he was Victor’s coach and it was his job to look after all his pupils and maybe looking after also meant keeping them from isolating themselves from everyone else.

He wanted to put a comforting hand on Victor’s shoulder and realized with a shock that he couldn’t bring himself to do it. When was the last time he’d done something like that? Come to think of it – when was the last time he’d touched Victor – given him a hug, or shaken him by the hand? He couldn’t remember.

He _ought_ to remember. It was recently, right? He hadn’t gone on teaching for years and years without ever once touching his pupil, had he?

Only Victor projected the aura of someone who didn’t want to be comforted. He was a bit like his parents in that way. Put on a brave face and carry on, Victor’s mother had said and Yakov had agreed at the time.

He’d only met Mr. and Mrs. Nikiforov a handful of times. He wasn’t sure what they did for a living. They both worked for the government, didn’t they? Victor’s mother had that stiff upper lip approach to life that Yakov had only ever encountered twice in his life. Every time they met, both of Victor’s parents were very well-dressed. His mother wore skirts that went just below the knee and pearl necklaces while his father seemed to favour suits. They last time Yakov had seen them, they’d come to watch their son compete in the Olympics. They’d applauded politely when Victor had won first place and given him a formal congratulation afterwards. They hadn’t even hugged him.

For some reason, Yakov hadn’t questioned it at the time. Now he wondered how he’d been so blind.

“And the scores for Victor Nikiforov are…”

He willed his arm to rise, but it remained at his side.

“…114.1 points!”

Another world record.

Yakov made a frustrated sound.

Victor raised his head and met his eye. “I’m sorry for crying like this…” he snivelled, trying to wipe the tears away as more appeared in his eyes. “I know I’m a disappointment.”

“You’re not a disappointment,” Yakov corrected and finally he managed to get his arm to obey. It hovered just above Victor’s shoulder. “ _I’m_ the disappointment here. If the judges gave out marks to the coaches, I’d end up with negative points.”

Victor’s eyes widened in surprise. He shifted a little and his shoulder pressed against Yakov’s hand. He turned his head and stared at it in confusion.

“You can cry as much as you want,” Yakov said soothingly. “And no one has any right to complain.” He took a deep breath and added, “Even me.”

“Oh, Victor…” Yuuri whispered, placing his fingers on the screen. He should’ve done everything he could to find the money to go with Victor. He should’ve borrowed money, or sold some of his things, or saved up, or…

He lowered his head as the stream ended. It was too late now. What use were all these ideas to him when the competition was halfway done?

He wished he’d been there to hold Victor’s hand, but he knew all too well that wishing got you nowhere. He had to do something. But what?

He turned his laptop off and paced the room.

It was getting late. He had a dress rehearsal the next day and early in the morning, too. His idea would have to wait.

It was impossible to focus on the dress rehearsal the next day. The music played and Victor’s skate appeared before his eyes. The sight of someone laughing reminded him of Victor’s face when he’d cried. When he picked Mila up, his imagination put Victor in her place, startling him and almost making him drop her.

“What’s wrong, Yuuri?” she asked him in a whisper. “You seem really out of it today.”

“Sorry, I…I didn’t get any sleep last night,” he lied.

She laughed as if he’d made a joke. “Who’s the lucky guy this time?”

“What?” It took him some time to understand her question. “Oh! No, I…I was by myself. There isn’t anyone…”

Victor’s lonely figure out in the cold appeared in his mind.

“As if I’ll believe that!” she smirked at him. “Our Yuuri has no shortage of admirers!”

 _Our Yuuri._ He remembered his conversation with Phichit and wondered if this was Mila’s way of being friendly with him. Or was this flirting? No, no it couldn’t be!

“What are you two talking about over there?” the choreographer demanded and clapped her hands. “Everyone start from the top!”

Yuuri coloured, embarrassed at having forgotten about the practice. “Sorry!” he called out.

“Don’t apologize,” Mila reprimanded him in a low voice. “I was just enjoying the image of Rebel Yuuri!”

Rebel Yuuri decided not to argue about this. If he let Mila bait him, they might never make it through a single full run-through, which meant they’d stay late and he’d miss Victor’s skate.

Luckily, they succeeded in finishing on time and Yuuri was able to make it back before the free skate portion of the competition began.

This time the wait for Victor to go out on the ice was even worse. Was Victor’s free skate also influenced by a ballet Yuuri had danced in? Yuuri knew that a simple search would provide him with an answer, but while a part of him desperately needed to know, a different part altogether wanted to delay the moment when he found out for as long as possible.

Finally it was Victor’s turn. He stood in front of his coach, dressed in a black costume that sparkled over his shoulders while leaving most of his back exposed. The camera men seemed to really appreciate this last detail, judging by how long they spent recording Victor from behind.

Like last time, Yakov was lecturing him about something. He put a hand over Victor’s and Yuuri felt his heart fill with gratitude towards the old coach. The line of Victor’s shoulders told Yuuri that he also appreciated this gesture. The camera angle switched and caught a faint smile on Victor’s lips.

Yuuri joined his hands. For a moment, he closed his eyes and imagined he was holding Victor’s hand and then – what a strange idea! – he wondered if there was any way to project this idea into Victor’s mind.

“Next on the ice –”

Yuuri opened his eyes and watched Victor skate away from his coach. _When you come back, I’m going to cook something delicious for you. I’ll find a good recipe. I’ll even buy all the ingredients._

Victor stopped. He raised his arms and bent one knee. His outfit sparkled even brighter.

The sounds of a guitar broke the silence and Victor skated something completely different form the innocent first love he’d shown the day before.

Yuuri, whose knowledge was limited to ballet, had no idea what this dance was called, but luckily the commentators provided him with an answer to his questions, “Tango is usually for two,” said the voice of a man Yuuri wished would stay quiet, “but Victor shows us, yet again, that he can overcome every challenge. I confess, he had me worried yesterday. I feared he wouldn’t be in the right mental space for today’s skate, but, no, Victor proves yet again that he has the ability to set all his troubles aside and focus on his skate.”

“And I’m sure a lot of skaters envy this skill,” said the second commentator and Yuuri bit his lip in frustration.

He didn’t want to listen to this, but if he turned the volume down, he would be able to hear Victor’s music.

“Most skaters would start talking about retirement at his age,” the first commentator went on in that annoying way of his.

“Not that we ever get to find out what Victor talks about,” the second commentator chimed in. “Perhaps, if he attended the press conferences, we would know if he plans to retire.”

Yuuri’s anger flared. Why were they talking now? They’d been silent last time! And worse still – why were they talking about this?

“Not that Victor needs to retire. He is in excellent form and, despite being 27, may continue winning gold for another ten years at least!”

Yuuri’s brain filed Victor’s age away for thinking about later as the rest of him raged against the commentators. Maybe it was possible to turn the commentary off somehow? He studied the screen closely, trying to keep one eye on Victor’s skating.

That was how he found the little chat box in the corner of the page. Curious about what it was, he scrolled through it, his eyes taking in all the comments.

_Victor is such a hottie! Marry me, Victor!_

_I dunno. I think Chris is hotter xx_

Yuuri scrolled past a long debate on the merits of both skaters.

 _I think Otabek deserves third place,_ another person wrote and argued their point for a whole paragraph.

_JJ is the king!_

Yuuri wasn’t sure why he kept scrolling. It was as if once he started he couldn’t stop.

_Ugh! So tired of watching Victor win!_

_Yeah Victor sucks_

_Why don’t they just disqualify him? Everyone knows he’ll win gold. Why doesn’t he just retire and give others a chance? It’s so not fair!_

_Yeah! Give others a chance!_

_The judges are so biased! It’s obvious that Chris should’ve gotten more points. His quad…_ What followed was a long paragraph breaking down how many points a different skater had gotten and how many more he deserved. Yuuri didn’t know anything about figure skating, but the writer seemed to know the subject well. He talked about points for things Yuuri had never heard of before.

But judges were impartial, right?

 _I hate Victor,_ the next comment read. _I hope he breaks both his legs._

Yuuri closed the laptop and drew in a slow breath.

People were just like that. There was always someone who left a mean comment.

How could they say that when they haven’t seen how much effort it took to prepare for a competition? How could anyone say something like that about anyone else?

Yuuri paced the room, his mind racing. He wished he could imagine Victor skating, but when he closed his eyes all he could see were those cruel words.

Too late he remembered about the competition. He’d gotten so caught up in reading the comments that he’d missed the end of Victor’s skate! He dashed to the laptop and stopped. There was no way he could open it again. He dropped down onto the bed and put his arms around himself. He needed to see Victor right now, but he knew it wasn’t possible.

Another idea occurred to him then. He picked up his phone and called Victor.

Only when the call connected did he realize that he’d never talked to Victor on the phone before.

“Victor?”

“Yuuri, hello.” He sounded tired and sad. Again Yuuri wished he could hold on to Victor. “Is everything alright?”

He turned his back to the laptop. “It is. I just… I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice.”

“Oh.” There was a long silence.

 _He’s probably never had someone say that to him before,_ Yuuri realized. _He doesn’t know what to say in response. Damn! I don’t know what to say next either!_

“Thank you,” Victor finally managed.

Yuuri pushed the laptop aside and dropped onto his back. He tried to think of something else to say. That “thank you” had sounded warmer than Victor’s previous words and he could only hope that his words were having the desired effect. “Um… I just wish we were together right now.”

“Sorry, Yuuri. It-it’s my fault.” Nothing after that. No confession, no excuses.

There was no question in his mind as to why. “When you…” _come back_ “…aren’t busy. Can we meet again? Please? If you have things you need to do, like – like chores, that’s fine. I can come along. I really don’t mind. Please?” he added, feeling foolish.

“I’d like that.”

And he knew that it was a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep forgetting to mention that the way the ballet company runs is fictional. I hope no one minds that I invented a bunch of details. The piece that Victor uses is a shorter version of [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qy6dlGpC3Ns).


	4. Two Hundred and Thirty-Three

The morning after Yuuri’s phone call Victor felt an odd restlessness come over him. He practiced for the exhibition skate along with the other skaters, unable to shake the thought that most of him didn’t want to be here, but would rather go back home to St. Petersburg and spend the day with Yuuri.

He’d expected Yuuri to ask about where he was, or what he was doing, but for some reason Yuuri didn’t and while most of Victor was happy he didn’t have to say anything about it, a part of him wished Yuuri had asked him directly.

His restlessness remained even after the practice session ended. Having no other way to kill time before his exhibition skate, he went outside to wander up and down Turin’s streets.

Turn is an old Italian city made up of picturesque piazzas and churches. Every corner is full of history, centuries of it.

Victor wandered through several streets before he stumbled into a small white church. His feet carried him inside as if they knew that there was something here he had to see.

He walked as slowly and silently as he could, taking in the frescoes on the walls. It was quiet in here. One person sat near the altar and prayed, their hands joined and their lips moving with a sound.

It was so peaceful in the little church. The saints smiled from their paintings as if they were all glad to see Victor. The bleak light of day passed through the stain glass windows and took on many colours and below the windows, where daylight couldn’t reach, dozens of candles filled the air with a warm glow. Stone walls kept out the sounds of the world outside, assuring all visitors that in here they would be safe.

Victor stopped in front of one of the frescoes and studied it, as if he was an art historian, while his mind replayed his conversation with Yuuri.

What was Yuuri doing now? Was he preparing for his next performance of the Nutcracker?

Victor had already bought tickets for all of Yuuri’s performances, except those which were scheduled during the Russian Nationals.

This season they’d scheduled the Nationals early, as if aiming specifically for his birthday.

His birthday. It was almost a whole year now since he’d first seen Yuuri perform on the stage. Back then he would’ve never imagined that he would become friends with Yuuri.

He froze.

The sound of someone crying reached his ears. They wept very softly, barely making a noise, but the occasional sniffle broke the perfect silence of the church and gave them away. At first Victor thought that maybe he was wrong, maybe the person _wasn’t_ crying, but then he took two steps in the direction of the noise and spotted a young man sitting in a hidden corner, his hands over his face and his shoulders trembling.

Victor hesitated. He ought to turn around and leave. This was none of his business. The person obviously wanted to be left alone and Victor asking him questions would only make things worse.

 _But what if he’s crying because he’s lonely?_ he suddenly thought.

He needed to be careful. He had to offer his help, but in a way that suggested that he would leave as soon as the stranger wanted to be left alone.

He tread slowly as most of him wanted to turn and run. His shoes squeaked on the floor and, startled, the stranger raised his head. Only, it wasn’t a stranger. It was Christophe Giacometti – the skater who often came in second behind Victor.

Now he _had_ to run. The man was probably upset because of Victor. Maybe that was why he was crying – all his hard work never seemed to pay off and…

But he’d already been spotted. There was an odd expression on Christophe’s face and Victor became convinced that he’d guessed correctly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I… uh…” he cast around, desperate for something to say. How Christophe must hate him now! He needed to pretend he hadn’t seen the other skater crying. But how could he do something like that and sound convincing? He was obviously close enough to see! “There’s so much smoke from those candles, that it’s making my eyes water,” he lied. He pulled out a box of tissues. He took one for himself and held out the rest to Christophe. “Do you need some?”

Christophe stared at him in surprise and Victor panicked. He’d done the wrong thing, hadn’t he? Then he smiled and accepted one. “Thank you.” He wiped his face.

Victor turned to go.

“I’m not crying because of the smoke,” Christophe told him.

Victor froze. Was the other skater going to accuse him of stealing the gold medal from him? Would he cry more? Would he curse Victor? He forced himself to turn around. “I… I’m sorry,” he apologized, because it was the only response he could think of. He felt instinctively that he needed to say something else and leave, but his mind was a slow and useless thing and he found himself unable to come up with anything at all.

“I broke up with my boyfriend,” Christophe explained.

A weight lifted from Victor’s shoulders, only to be replaced by another weight. The tears weren’t his fault, thank goodness! But what was he supposed to say now? “I’m very sorry,” he began, trying to imagine himself in Christophe’s situation and failing, “I hope you –” He stopped himself just in time. “You deserve a very good person and I hope that one day you meet them.” Was that good? Was it too much? He stood and waited for some sort of verdict.

“Really?” Christophe smiled bitterly. “You barely know me. How can you say that? Maybe I’m a horrible person who deserved to be dumped?”

Now Victor was on familiar territory. “Don’t say that about yourself! I know you work hard and I imagine that you put in as much effort as you can into being a good boyfriend.”

Christophe raised an eyebrow at this. “Are you… flirting with me?” He said the word as if the thought of Victor flirting with anyone was inconceivable.

“What? No! No! I… uh…” He looked away. “I was trying to cheer you up. But I can see now that I failed completely. I’ll leave you to… um…. I’ll just leave now.”

Laughter broke the silence of the church and Victor cringed. He’d made a fool of himself! Someone was laughing at him!

“Don’t be offended,” Christophe reassured him as soon as he got his laughter under control. “It’s just that I never would’ve thought that _you_ – of all people – would com comforting me after my breakup. And the thought of you flirting with me is just hilarious.” He rose to his feet. “Come on. I need some comforting, so why don’t you buy me a drink and I’ll tell you what happened?” To Victor’s surprise, the skater winked – actually _winked_! – at him.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be alone?” he asked, still glued to his spot.

“Positive. Now how about that drink? Oh yeah and before we go – do you have a boyfriend?”

Victor turned away. He hated this question. His answer (a firm and polite “no”) would always invariably be followed by something that sounded like “at your age” and go downhill from there.

“Alright, alright, keep your secret,” Christophe relented. “I’m not asking you for a confession. I just want to know if you’re willing to have sex with me to cheer me up?”

Victor’s face turned at that question. “What – what kind of –” he spluttered, too embarrassed to finish.

“Look at that _blush_!” Christophe exclaimed and laughed even louder than before. The only other people in the church shot him dirty looks. “I was just _kidding_! Don’t get your panties in a twist!” He laughed the rest of the way to the door.

Victor trailed after him, fighting down the instinct to run away as fast as possible.

He left the decision of where to go with Christophe, bracing himself for getting dragged to a bar. Contrary to his expectations, Christophe settled for a cozy café that served delicious hot chocolate with soft croissants.

They settled down at a table by the window where they sat in perfect silence, both of them unable to think of what to say.

The croissants were really delicious! Victor wondered if there was a place like this in St. Petersburg. Maybe he could take Yuuri there sometime. But what if the ballet dancer didn’t like croissants?

His thoughts jumped from croissants to Yuuri’s request. He could always reschedule his visit to a different day. Yuuri probably thought Victor’s errands included shopping. Maybe they _could_ go shopping together!

His head filled with images of them drinking hot chocolate together, trying on different clothes and even taking pictures together. How could he have been so unimaginable?

“So,” Christophe spoke up, interrupting Victor’s fantasy that involved him and Yuuri going grocery shopping together, “penny for your thoughts?”

Victor stared at him in mute surprise for several minutes before the meaning of the question sank in. “I… uh…” Yuuri’s face appeared before his eyes. He couldn’t wait to see Yuuri again.

“So you _do_ have a boyfriend!” Christophe exclaimed and leaned forward. “What’s he like?”

“Yuuri’s not – not my boyfriend!” Victor protested, feeling embarrassed that he had to explain this. “We’re just friends. He’s very nice,” Victor added.

“I’m not buying this,” Christophe warned. “I think he _is_ your boyfriend, but I won’t argue about it now. Why didn’t he come with you?”

Victor lowered his head. “Because I didn’t tell him I’m a skater. I just… I just want a simple friendship, that’s all,” he insisted.

“Simple. Right,” Christophe snorted. “By day, maybe, and at night there’s all these knots, or whips, or leather straps.”

Victor frowned. Was this code for something? What did knots have to do with friendships? Maybe metaphorical knots? Wasn’t there an expression that was something like “tying the knot”? Not that he could remember what it meant.

Christophe laughed. “Well, you’re definitely doing a good job of cheering me up.”

Well, at least one of them was enjoying this conversation.

“I’m sorry,” Victor said, deciding that honesty now would save him a lot of embarrassment and misunderstandings later, “I’m not good at making conversation. I don’t really spend a lot of time with people.”

“That’s not a problem,” Christophe reassured him. “I can give you lessons and they’ll be free of charge too.”

Victor said nothing. No one had ever teased him like this before and he didn’t know how he ought to respond.

“So what does this Yuuri do?” Christophe asked. “Does he…” he stopped, considering several options, “…actually, I don’t have any guesses about his job.”

“He’s a ballet dancer,” Victor answered. He wondered then why he was telling Christophe, a man he barely knew, about Yuuri. For some reason, talking about the ballet dancer felt like he was giving away his deepest secret. “He’s very good.”

“Ah.” Understanding appeared on Christophe’s face. “Well, that explains your short program.”

“It-it does?” Victor asked and then realized that the connection between “ballet dancer” and “music from the Nutcracker” was an easy one to make. “Yuuri danced to that music,” he admitted.

Christophe gave him a knowing smile, but didn’t add anything else. He finished his drink and glanced at his watch. “We need to head back, or we’ll miss our time to go out on the ice.”

“Right.” Victor dawned the rest of his drink. “I’ll pay the bill,” he offered and made for the front counter.

Christophe held out his arm to stop him. “This one is on me. You can get the next one.”

“Next one?” Victor repeated in disbelief.

“There will be a next one, right?” Christophe asked with a wink.

“I-if you want.” Why was it so hard to keep up with the conversation? Was Victor just really slow?

“Oh and…” Christophe paused, “don’t call me by my full name. My friends all call me Chris. We’re friends now, right?”

“R-right.”

Four days wasn’t a long time, but, for some reason, when Yuuri arrived at Victor’s apartment it felt as if an eternity had passed since they’d last seen each other.

The smell of something delicious hit Yuuri’s nostrils as he walked down the hall to Victor’s apartment. And then it hit him just how much he missed Victor. He rushed onwards.

This time he found Victor’s door slightly open. He hesitated, considered knocking and opted for opening the door and stepping in instead.

For the first time since they met they both had a free day and they’d decided to meet earlier this time. This was why Victor was cooking breakfast and not dinner, making Yuuri wish he’d gotten up a little earlier so he could’ve arrived sooner to help.

He closed the door and locked it. He removed his jacket and shoes as quickly as he could and stepped into the kitchen, treading soundlessly in his socks.

Victor was at the stove with his back turned to Yuuri. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and hummed gently to himself as he finished off what Yuuri suspected was an omelette.

“Good morning!” Yuuri exclaimed, a little dazzled by the sight before him.

Victor turned around. “Good morning!” There was a big smile on his face, filled with pure joy.

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of that smile.

“Good… good morning,” he repeated foolishly.

“You came just in time! I’m almost done!”

Yuuri fidgeted. “Sorry, I didn’t come sooner.”

This was met with another smile. “No, no, you don’t need to apologize for that!” He pulled out a chair for Yuuri. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Yuuri dropped into a chair, feeling a little dazed by everything that was happening.

Victor set an omelette down on the plate before him and another for himself.

“Thank you.” Yuuri waited for them both to get partway into their meal before asking the question that had been nagging at him since the previous day. “So… what errands did you need to do?”

Victor didn’t look thrilled by this question. “I …I don’t really know how to explain it… Can we – Do you mind if we keep it a surprise?”

This was so far removed from what Yuuri had expected to hear that he didn’t know how to react. Did this mean that they were going to do something unusual? Or was this a typical errand that Victor just happened to be embarrassed about for some reason? What sort of errand could that possibly be?

He swallowed down all his questions. “I like surprises,” he lied and did his best to look convincing.

Victor glanced at his watch. “A car will come pick us up in 20 minutes.”

“A car?”

“It’s a long way from here.”

The explanation was simple enough, but still it left Yuuri mostly in the dark. He’d thought they’d go to a store, or something like that. This was turning into a serious outing. And a _car_!

He was starting to feel nervous. Butterflies rose in his stomach. They weren’t about to go see Victor’s parents, were they? The thought made his head spin.

But, surely, Victor wouldn’t have kept it as a surprise, if that were the case? Maybe he would keep it from them, but not from Yuuri. He would’ve warned him so he could look his best, right?

It was almost impossible to eat breakfast with thoughts like those, but he worried that if he didn’t finish his portion, Victor would get upset, so he did his best.

As promised, 20 minutes later Victor’s phone made a quiet “ping”, drawing their attention.

“The car is here,” Victor told Yuuri after a quick glance at his phone.

Yuuri made for the doorway that connected the kitchen and the living room. “Do I need to take something with me?”

“No, just your coat to walk to and from the car.” And even an innocent-sounding answer like that felt cryptic to Yuuri.

But when he came down the stairs and saw that what was waiting for them was nothing more than a regular taxi, he felt himself relax a little.

They climbed into the back and the taxi drove off. Victor must’ve given the address of their destination ahead of time, because the driver didn’t ask for it.

They sat side by side in the back, in the window seats, leaving a spot empty between them.

Yuuri’s eyes kept drifting over to Victor’s hand. He bit his lips, tried his best to look away, but still his eye would fall on it once more.

He reached out a shaky hand and took Victor’s hand.

Victor turned his head and met Yuuri’s eye.

“I missed you,” Yuuri confessed.

For a while, Victor was silent. He stared at their joined hands as if studying them. At last, he looked up. “I missed you too. Isn’t it strange? It’s only been four days, but it feels so much longer!”

 _I thought the same thing!_ Yuuri squeezed Victor’s hand. It would probably never cease to amaze him how similar he and Victor were.

They were silent after that. Yuuri gazed out the window, trying to guess their destination, but having no luck. Every time he saw something that looked like a place where Victor might want to go, the car passed it by without turning.

They were on the outskirts of St. Petersburg now, almost out of the city altogether.

Just as Yuuri began to think that maybe their destination was very far away, the car turned onto a small road and a sign appeared that answered one question and raised a thousand more.

_Leningrad Oblast’ Orphanage_

Yuuri turned his head and met Victor’s eye, not daring the ask the first question that rose to his lips.

Victor gave a single nod.

The car slowed down and came to a stop.

“Thank you,” Victor said to the driver. He took out his wallet and gave the man several banknotes.

“You’ll need someone to take you back, right?” the driver asked.

“Yes, but that won’t be for at least three hours,” Victor replied.

“I can wait,” the driver told him.

“Thank you.” Victor climbed out of the car and Yuuri followed him.

The orphanage was a new building surrounded by a fence with a security guard standing at the gates, watching them closely.

Yuuri took Victor’s hand again. “Um…” He didn’t know what he ought to ask. There were too many questions and he wasn’t sure how to ask any of them in a way that would sound right. “Are we… um… visiting someone?” he finally managed.

“We’re visiting the whole orphanage,” Victor told him in a low voice.

Right. Ok. So this was going to be that kind of visit. Only Yuuri didn’t know what he was supposed to do during that kind of visit. “Um… what am I… What should I do?”

Victor stared at the security guard. “I’ll show you.” He released Yuuri’s hand and made for the gates.

Yuuri followed behind him, wondering if Victor was going to show some kind of pass to the guard. The man at the gates looked terrifying.

“Ah, Victor Alekseyevich,” the security guard said, breaking into a smile. “Fine day, isn’t it?”

The day was like any other day in the middle of December in St. Petersburg – windy, bleak and with the constant threat of snow hanging over their heads.

“Hello, Stepan Ivanovich,” Victor greeted the man politely. “Yes, better than yesterday,” he agreed. He turned and held out his hand to Yuuri. “I came with a friend this time.”

“Not a problem,” the guard assured him. He gave Yuuri a friendly nod. “You know how the kids love visitors.” He stepped aside and let them pass.

Yuuri didn’t know what to say after that.

A short stone pathway led from the gate to house. On one side of it was what looked like a garden all covered with snow, and on the other – a playground cleared from snow told the world that it was still in use despite the cold weather. The air was full of the smell of breakfast and the sound of children’s voices – talking and laughing.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you ahead of time,” Victor whispered.

“It’s ok,” Yuuri reassured him.

“My parents built this place,” Victor admitted in the same low voice. “You’ll see their photo in the front hall. They hired staff to run the place. My mother always said we have to help in any way we can.”

“How many children are there here?” He couldn’t explain why this question came out before any of the others that were bubbling to the surface.

“Two hundred and thirty-three,” Victor answered. “They’re going to open another home soon, so we can take care of more.”

“That’s amazing!”

Victor stared at his feet. “Someone has to do something for these children. It’s not their fault they don’t have parents.”

Yuuri just nodded.

“Ready?” Victor asked.

It was an odd question to ask, but Yuuri suspected that he looked terrified. He was definitely feeling very nervous. He nodded again.

Victor took his hand and raised his other hand to open the door.

Yuuri expected to stumble into a figure of authority right away, but the first person they met was a boy sitting on bench in the hallway. His left leg was in a cast and a pair of crutches was leaning against the wall next to him.

“Hello, Vanya,” Victor said, stopping in front of the boy. “Why are you sitting out here all by yourself?”

“I wanted to be alone for a little bit,” the boy admitted. “And now I get to see you first! Hello, Victor!” He gave a large grin that was missing a few teeth. Then he spotted Yuuri and the smile faded a little. “Who is this?”

“Vanya, meet Yuuri. He’s my friend. He wanted to come with me today. You’ll make him feel welcome, right?” There was so much kindness in his face that it drew Yuuri in to stand closer to him.

“Hello, Yuuri,” Vanya said with a little wave. “You’re the first friend Victor ever brought here. Do you like chess?”

“I’m not very good at it, to be honest,” Yuuri admitted. He’d only ever watched others play chess, so his understanding of the rules was very patchy.

The boy’s face lit up. “I can teach you how to play!”

Yuuri exchanged a look with Victor. “Do you mind if I stay here?”

“We don’t need to stay here,” the boy corrected. He took a crutch in each hand and got up. “Follow me.”

Yuuri caught the encouraging smile on Victor’s face and nodded. This was why they’d come here, after all.

Vanya took him down the hall to a room filled with tables where a lot of kids sat and played different board games. They all turned to watch Yuuri and Vanya enter the room. More than half of them rushed from their seats to surround their visitor and shower him with questions. They wanted to know everything – how old Yuuri was, what his job was, how he knew Victor, what was his favourite colour and so on.

Yuuri did his best to answer all their questions. The kids all had clean clothes and they all looked well-fed. In short, they looked happy and looked after.

“I… promised to play chess with Vanya,” he admitted after what felt like a hundred questions.

The kids laughed. “Vanya is our champion chess player! He played chess with everyone in the school.”

“You must be very good,” Yuuri said to the boy. “I’m not going to be much of a match for you.”

Now it was the boy’s turn to laugh. “I’m a champion at playing with people! I’m not a champion at winning.”

“Oh.” Yuuri relaxed a little.

They picked a table and set the board up together as the other kids gathered around them to watch. Only then did Yuuri notice that there was an adult in the room: a middle-aged man sat in a corner, keeping an eye on all the children, not bothering to interfere.

Yuuri gave him a polite nod and the man nodded back.

He found himself wondering how many people worked here and if all the adults kept off to the side, or if they yelled out orders.

“You go first,” Vanya said.

“Oh! Right.” Yuuri moved one of the pawns forward two spaces.

Vanya mirrored his move.

The game was very straightforward with no tricks at all. Yuuri found his attention constantly distracted by the kids around him and didn’t bother making any plans. Vanya took Yuuri’s pieces one by one.

The kids were like one big family. There was a bond there that said they were ready to stand up for each other.

Halfway into the game, the door opened and more people poured into the room. Yuuri raised his head from the board and spotted Victor among them.

“Checkmate!” Vanya exclaimed.

The kids moved in closer. At first, Yuuri had the odd idea that they were going to congratulate Vanya like a hero, but then he realized that they were actually all very eager to meet him.

He smiled and introduced himself and answered another million questions. He concluded with, “Sorry, I can’t play games with all of you. I promise I would, if I had the time.”

“You can read to all of us!” a little girl suggested.

This suggestion was met with general approval. The kids jumped and clapped excitedly.

Victor and Yuuri exchanged a glance.

“Maybe you can read together?” a little boy suggested, clutching a teddy bear to his chest.

“Of course,” Yuuri agreed. “What do you want us to read to you?”

The children answered all at once, shouting out the names of different books, each of them picking a different title from the others.

“Let’s go to the library,” Victor suggested, “and you can pick something there.”

“Yes! Let’s!” The children surrounded them, grabbing their hands and leading them back into the hall where they were joined by more children. The news of their visit seemed to have spread through the whole orphanage and more and more people poured in from the other rooms as they passed them. Some of the kids sang, while other chatted to each other, thrilled by this little adventure. It was, without a doubt, the strangest procession Yuuri had ever been part of.

The library turned out to be half library, half auditorium. There were shelves of books in one part of it, while the other part had a carpeted area made up of steps arranged in a semicircle.

Victor and Yuuri descended to the bottom where a chair and a microphone were waiting for them. While the kids argued about the best book for them to read, Victor called over a lady to him that looked like a librarian from head to toe.

“Good morning, Darya Matveyevna. Did you get the books we sent last week?”

“Yes, Victor Alekseyevich. Thank you so much for them!” For a moment she looked as if she was about to bow. After some hesitation, she opted for a smile. “You know how much the children love reading!”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Victor said. He excused himself and went to get another chair.

Yuuri hurried after him and they carried it together.

“But not as much as they love listening to you read to them,” the librarian added, following them across the room and clutching a handkerchief to her chest.

“Really, I’m sure you read better than I do,” Victor insisted modestly. They set the chair down and Victor beamed as if they’d just done something incredible.

The kids picked this moment to announce that they’d decided that since they had _two_ visitors today, they could listen to two different books.

“Sounds good to me. Why don’t I go first?” Victor volunteered, guessing correctly by the expression on Yuuri’s face that the thought of reading so many children was terrifying him.

As promised, Victor read first and then Yuuri. Some of the children formed a little band and played a song for their visitors. To Yuuri’s surprise, the orphanage had twenty-five musical instruments, including a violin.

Victor listened to them play and talked about getting more instruments for the kids. His face lit up as he spoke and Yuuri found it impossible to look away. Victor talked about language teachers and math programs and then Yuuri knew.

His parents might’ve founded the orphanage, maybe even paid all the bills, but, in reality, it was _Victor’s_ orphanage. He made sure the kids had everything he could get for them. He knew all the staff that worked there and never once had he gotten a single child’s name wrong.

Yuuri stood closer to Victor. There was so much energy coming from him it was like standing outside on a bright summer day.

Victor glanced down at his watch and his face fell. The feeling of a warm summer day dissipated. “I’m sorry, everyone,” he said, “but Yuuri and I need to go.”

There was a collective “aww!” at this. Some of the children started to cry and a few of them threw their arms around Victor and held on tightly.

“We’ll miss you,” everyone in the room told him and then repeated the same words to Yuuri.

“Thank you.”

At least a dozen kids threw their arms around Yuuri and hugged him tight, catching him off guard. Beside him even more kids were hugging Victor.

Yuuri laughed and marvelled how it was possible that a giant hug could make him so happy. He met Victor’s eye and saw the blissful expression on his face. _This_ was why he did all this. This was his award for all his hard work.

Victor pulled free with a hundred apologies and Yuuri followed his example, doing his best to avoid hurting someone.

The kids followed them to the doors. A few of them rushed to bring Victor’s coat from the closet where he’d left it.

“You don’t have to…” he protested and when they insisted he beamed at all of them. “Thank you so much!”

“Liudmila Prokhovievna said that it’s very important to look after your guests,” one of the girls said. Around her all the kids agreed that yes, she did say that.

“Thank you,” Victor said again as he pulled his coat on. “I’m glad to hear that Liudmila Prokhovievna is teaching you good manners.”

“I do my best,” an elderly lady said from one of the doorways.

“Will you come back soon?” a little boy asked, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

Victor pulled a tissue from his pocket and leaned forward to wipe the boy’s nose. “I’ll be back next week. We can start preparing for New Year’s then, what do you all think?”

This was met with cheers of “hooray!” and “yay!”

One of the kids eyed Yuuri curiously. “Will you come back with Victor next time?”

Yuuri exchanged a glance with Victor. “Yes, of course! I’ll be glad to!”

This earned the visitors another round of cheers and made a big smile appear on Victor’s face.

Yuuri and Victor exited the building and everyone else followed at their heels all the way to the gate. Only then did Yuuri realize that while they’d lingered at the doors, the kids had slipped their coats and hats on. The air was, once again, filled with excited chatter.

The guard smiled at them from his post and let Yuuri and Victor pass. He eyed everyone else with a half-serious expression on his face and reminded them all that they had to remain inside.

“Goodbye everyone!” Victor called from the other side of the fence.

The children all ran to the fence and stuck out their arms between the bars. The sight made Yuuri think of prisons and brought unpleasant thoughts to mind.

Victor walked over to them and grabbed each hand, giving it a brief shake. He walked slowly from person to person, not missing a single outstretched hand. Yuuri stood off to the side, wondering if he was supposed to do the same thing. Then he noticed that all the adults were watching the territory around the orphanage with worried expressions on their faces.

“I’ll send some decorations,” Victor promised, “and maybe we can put them up together?”

They cheered.

He smiled and walked back to the taxi. “Sorry for the long wait,” he said to the driver.

“It wasn’t a long wait,” the driver assured him. He gave the kids a little wave and they all waved back. “Where now?”

Victor met Yuuri’s eye. “Home,” he said and opened the back door.

Yuuri followed him into the car and they left, waving goodbye until the orphanage disappeared behind a bend in the road.

A sadness came over Victor. “I don’t know if I can give them everything they need,” he admitted. “I definitely can’t afford sending all of them to university.”

Yuuri took his hand. “We’ll figure something out,” he promised.

“Do you know how many orphans there are in Russia? Over 600 thousand! And I can only look after 233, maybe a few more.”

“You don’t need to take them all in,” Yuuri whispered.

Victor sighed. He pulled his free hand through his hair. “Maybe they’re right: it’s time I retired. I can give shows and raise money for more orphanages.”

Yuuri slid closer to Victor. He opened his mouth to say something and realized that for the first time since they’d met Victor had made a reference to being a figure skater. But this wasn’t the time for that conversation. Yuuri feared that if he talked about it now, he’d let slip the comments he’d read online and he didn’t want Victor to ever find out about them. “Let me cook for you,” he whispered.

Victor raised his head. “What? You don’t have to! You’re my guest!”

“I want to take care of you, Victor. When was the last time someone did that for you?” He wanted to reach out and take Victor’s face with both hand, but he wasn’t sure how Victor would react to that.

A look of confusion appeared on Victor’s face. “But… I’m… I’m an adult and…” He stared down at their joined hands. “Before you, not since I was small,” he admitted in a whisper.

“Then let me do it,” Yuuri insisted. “I know a delicious soup recipe.”

“Alright,” Victor accepted.

An hour later Yuuri got to carry out his promise. Victor sat at the kitchen table as Yuuri cooked. Luckily Victor had all the ingredients Yuuri needed, sparing him from making a trip to a grocery store and a possible argument with Victor over who will pay for what, an argument that he was sure he wouldn’t win.

The kitchen was filled with a peaceful silence. Yuuri stirred the soup, closed the lid and set the spoon aside. He turned around and looked at Victor.

The man sat with his head lowered and his arms resting on his knees. He’d been so full of energy at the orphanage, but now he looked completely drained.

Yuuri stepped over to him. “Do you want to talk?” he offered.

Victor raised his head. “I don’t know what to talk about,” he admitted in a drained voice.

“What about…” Yuuri began, folding his arms around himself. “I was thinking we could…” He took a deep breath. “Can you give me a hug, please? I really need one right now.”

Victor got up to his feet and put his arms around Yuuri as if he was handling a glass vase. “Like this?”

“Yes…” Yuuri clung on as tightly as he could. He released Victor and looked into his eyes. “How was that?”

“Can you hug me like that again, please?”

Yuuri wrapped Victor in what he hoped was a comforting hug. He felt Victor place his hands on his back and closed his eyes.

They held on for a very long time before at last Yuuri whispered, “I could do this forever.”

“Me too.”


	5. The Ballet Dancers Make Plans

Victor’s hug had been so warm and wonderful that Yuuri, eager to get another one, found himself recreating the one he’d gotten. He stood with his eyes closed and his arms wrapped tightly around himself.

He wanted more of _this_.

Yuuri lowered his head onto his shoulder and imagined that he was with Victor. He imagined his cheek was pressed against Victor’s shoulder and not his own. He pretended it was Victor’s arms holding him. He wanted to be held like he’d been the night before and he wanted to hold on to Victor, to make all that loneliness go away and never return.

Victor was _so lonely_. The mere thought of it made Yuuri’s heart ache again and again like a wound that began to bleed again at the smallest touch.

_I’m here now. I don’t want you to feel lonely anymore._

Someone cleared their throat behind him, making Yuuri jump. He turned around.

Phichit was giving him a worried look.

Too late, Yuuri remembered that he was in the change room before practice and not at home where no one could see him. He blushed and waited for Phichit to make fun of him.

To his surprise, instead of teasing him, Phichit’s worried expression didn’t change as he said, “Are you alright?”

Yuuri turned away and stared at his reflection. “How lonely does a person have to be for a simple touch to feel so special,” he asked in a low voice. He put his hand on the mirror and watched Phichit’s reflection frown, as if he’d been given a difficult problem to solve.

“This is about Victor, isn’t it?” Phichit guessed, stepping closer. “Did something happen between you two?”

“All that loneliness and it just made him… kind.” Yuuri turned around to face Phichit. “You knew who he was when you saw him,” he said, with a slight hint of an accusation in his tone.

“Yeah… well, I follow the Olympics,” Phichit admitted in an off-hand way. “I watch all the gymnastics competitions for the summer ones and the figure skating competitions in winter. Don’t you ever watch the Olympics?”

“Maybe once,” Yuuri admitted, “but only the opening ceremony, or the closing one.”

Phichit gave a half-shrug. “I watched Victor win two Olympic gold medals. Two! Can you imagine someone who can do that? They say he’ll take the third one as well, if he’s still in good shape to compete at the next ones.”

Yuuri stared at his hands. “I stumbled into his collection of medals,” he admitted in a whisper. For some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was confessing to a crime. “He has them arranged by year on his shelves, in a closet he keeps closed all the time.”

“Oh.”

Yuuri waited for Phichit to say something else, but the man remained silent. “He runs an orphanage. Did you know that?”

“I didn’t,” Phichit admitted.

“I don’t think anyone knows,” Yuuri went on. “He visits them regularly, buys them books and toys and… _music instruments_ and he’s upset that he can’t take care of all the orphans in Russia.” He felt tears well up in his eyes, but met Phichit’s gaze anyway. “And… and there are people out there who wish that he could break his leg just so he can retire and let someone else win a gold medal!” The tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Yuuri…” Phichit began. He stopped, took a deep breath and dropped onto one of the benches. “That’s… that’s how the world is,” he pointed out in a low voice. “If you tell them he does this, they’ll say he’s only doing it to look good. If he loses a competition, they’ll say he’s getting too old and isn’t good enough anymore. That’s how they are.”

Yuuri dropped onto the bench next to him. “The world is so messed up.”

“It is,” Phichit agreed.

Yuuri covered his face with his hands and willed the tears back.

Phichit folded his arms around him and said nothing. There was simply no justice in the world.

After a while, Yuuri got his emotions under control. He gave a long sigh, feeling a little lighter. “Thank you,” he said.

“Anytime.” Phichit released him and slid away. “Actually, I came here to talk to you about something.”

Yuuri tensed.

“No need to get frightened!” Phichit laughed and gave Yuuri a light nudge with his elbow. “It’s Elena’s birthday on the twenty-second and Alex’s on the twenty-third, so Mila and I thought we could combine the two and celebrate on the twenty-fourth? We’ll meet up for a few drinks after the performance, no big deal. What do you say?”

Birthday. The word dug up another memory. After the commentary about Victor’s birthday Yuuri had opened up the article on Wikipedia a second time and discovered that Victor’s birthday was mere days away.

He needed to get him a present. The memory brought with it the panic that he didn’t know what to get Victor.

What did a many-times champion want for his birthday? No, what did a very lonely man want?

“Yuuri?” Phichit asked with a hint of worry in his voice.

“What? Oh. Yeah, I think I can make it,” he said, only half aware of what he was agreeing to.

“Great! We might make it a surprise, so don’t tell them just yet!” Phichit cautioned with mock seriousness.

Yuuri nodded. “I’ll keep it a secret.”

“Good.”

That evening when he came to visit Victor, he found the man in a melancholy mood.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked, taking Victor by the hand.

Victor blinked at him. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said. Maybe to Victor this was the truth, but Yuuri was convinced that it wasn’t.

Yuuri made another attempt. “You were miles away. What were you thinking about?”

A bitter smile appeared on Victor’s face and vanished. He opened his mouth and Yuuri was prepared to bet his life that he was about to dismiss Yuuri’s fears with another half-truth.

Yuuri put his arms around Victor and bent his knees slightly so he could press his face to Victor’s chest. “I’m right here,” he whispered.

He had a strong urge to hold on like this forever and fight everyone who dared to suggest that he should be doing something else.

“I was thinking… How do you feel about going out for food tonight?”

Of course this wasn’t the reason for Victor’s bad mood, but when Yuuri raised his head and saw the hopeful look in Victor’s eyes he knew that there was just no way he could say no. “Let’s go,” he whispered.

“As for… um… where exactly…” Victor began and paused.

“It doesn’t matter,” Yuuri reassured him, because it really didn’t. If Victor said he wanted to dine at the other end of the world, Yuuri would follow him there without question.

He had to tell Yuuri about his figure skating career. Maybe he could just be casual about it and invite Yuuri to come watch him compete and let the competition speak for itself.

But then Yuuri would see him skate his Nutcracker short program and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to do that just yet.

Yuuri was kind enough to go along with Victor’s plans no matter what they were. Didn’t Victor owe him something in return?

He led them both to a restaurant he’d looked up ahead of time. Yuuri held his hand the whole way there and it was the most wonderful thing in the world.

Just before the restaurant they stopped and Victor put his arms around Yuuri. He’d never been hugged in the way that Yuuri hugged him. The children – _his_ children – were all too short to give proper hugs and tended to cling to his leg, but with Yuuri it was perfect: their heights were almost identical. More than that, Yuuri had a way of holding him that made him feel as if everything was going to be alright. Everything was fine. Of course it was.

“What’s wrong, Victor?”

What was wrong was that he’d spent so long keeping his troubles locked away inside that he didn’t know how to talk about them.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling away. “You must be hungry. I shouldn’t keep you from eating.”

“Victor…” Yuuri caught Victor by the hand. “What is it?”

He opened his mouth, closed it and then opened it again. “I’ll tell you over dinner.”

Yuuri gave a little nod and led the way into the restaurant.

As soon as they crossed the doorway a waiter came up to greet them. “Just the two of you?” he asked.

“Yes,” Victor replied. “Can we get a table out of view of everyone else?”

“Oh, a private table! Yes, of course!” The waiter gave them both a meaningful look, which only puzzled Victor.

Had the man recognized him? Had he figured out that Victor was trying to avoid running into a fan?

Whatever the waiter thought, he led them to a table at the very back that stood on its own. He left them two menus and then returned with a candle for the table.

“It’s… very nice here,” Yuuri said in a low voice.

Victor helped Yuuri out of his coat and let Yuuri take his own.

They took their seats and Victor reached across the table, desperate for contact. Yuuri slid his hand forward and their fingers touched. Victor’s chest filled with a warm feeling he’d never experienced before. It reminded him a bit of how it felt when he came in from the cold and drank a cup of hot tea or hot chocolate, but that had been a mere echo of a feeling when compared to how he felt now.

Yuuri gave him a little smile. “I… I’m starting to think I should’ve dressed a little nicer,” he confessed.

“This does seem like a fancy place,” Victor conceded. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“What did you want to tell me?” Yuuri asked.

He had to start somewhere. He had to explain that this was why there was no one else in his life. He had to make Yuuri see that he’d devoted all his time to figure skating like all the other figure skaters did. He had to avoid listing specific medals he’d won and just avoid the whole topic of winning altogether.

He opened his mouth.

The waiter appeared at their table with a little notepad in his hands and a pleased grin on his face. “Are you ready to order?”

Victor felt something like hate rise in his chest. He forced it down and told himself that it wasn’t the man’s fault that he’d come at a bad time. He was just doing his job.

“Sorry,” he apologized without stopping to think. “I – we haven’t had time to study the menu yet. Give us… five minutes?” he was almost pleading now.

“No worries,” the waiter assured him. “Can I get you something to drink to start you off?”

“Just water for me,” Yuuri replied.

“Same for me,” Victor added while a feeling deep down told him that he ought to be ordering an alcoholic drink with an impressive name that is hard to pronounce.

The waiter gave them another bright grin and a promise to return soon.

Victor opened the menu, deciding that his confession would have to wait.

Yuuri glanced at him and opened his own menu. His eyes swept down the list and a look of alarm appeared on his face.

Worried that something was wrong with the menu, Victor lowered his own eyes. But several minutes of reading and re-reading the list gave him no explanation for Yuuri’s reaction.

He raised his eyes again.

Yuuri set his menu aside, biting his lower lip.

 _What’s wrong?_ Victor wondered.

Finally Yuuri spoke up. “Can we… do you mind if we share?”

Ah. So he was worried that the portions would be too big. Victor closed his menu. “Not at all.”

The waiter appeared at his side and set two glasses of water down.

“We’ll take the Jumbo lobster and the shrimp appetizer to start. One portion should be enough for both of us.” He handed the waiter his menu and watched the man throw another glance at Yuuri before he winked at Victor and left.

Victor frowned at his hands.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked in a whisper.

“There’s something strange about that waiter,” Victor admitted, leaning closer. “He keeps giving me these meaningful looks, but I have no idea what they mean.”

Yuuri looked puzzled at this. “Meaningful how?”

“Winking and looking at you,” Victor explained. “Do you know him?”

As soon as the words left Victor’s mouth, Yuuri coloured. “That’s very odd,” he agreed. “I’ve never met him before.”

An idea occurred to Victor then. “Maybe he recognized you? Maybe he’s seen you dance on stage before and that’s how he knew who you are, I mean.”

Yuuri didn’t look convinced. For a moment, it looked like he was about to argue, but he gave a slight shake of his head and merely said, “I doubt it.”

Victor deflated a little. Maybe the waiter had recognized _him_. There was definitely a higher chance of that – his face appeared on TV and in YouTube videos. Yuuri’s picture was only in ballet programs. You couldn’t even see his face clearly unless you sat close enough to the stage.

They didn’t say anything else before the waiter returned with the aperitifs he’d ordered.

“What did you want to tell me?” Yuuri asked as soon as the man was gone.

“Tell you?” Victor repeated, his head still full of worry over what to say if the waiter comes asking for an autograph.

Yuuri waited patiently for it to return to him.

Oh, right. “Um…” Victor began and, he had to admit, it wasn’t a very promising beginning. He’d prepared words, or at least considered several ways of telling Yuuri the truth, but now nothing would come to mind. “I… uh…” He wasn’t ready. Not now. He could say it later, right? “Why don’t we eat first?” he suggested and hated himself.

He didn’t want to get this wrong. It was so important to get this _right_.

“Let’s eat,” Yuuri agreed.

They ate. Victor noticed that Yuuri took small bites and tried to offer up more, but Yuuri refused the offer.

“I… actually have something to say to you,” Yuuri admitted once they got partway into the main course. “Phichit – he’s one of the ballet dancers – is organizing a birthday party for Alex and Elena – they’re two other ballet dancers – and I thought: maybe you wouldn’t mind coming with – with me?” He gave Victor a pleading look.

A party with ballet dancers for another ballet dancer was probably safe. Victor had avoided many parties out of fear of them making him feel even more lonely and uncomfortable, but this time he’d be with Yuuri.

“I’d love to come,” Victor agreed. “When is it?”

“On the twenty-fourth.”

Victor’s heart fell. Of course there would be a catch. There was _always_ a catch. He should’ve known there would be. After all, so much of his life had been filled with them. “I can’t come,” he admitted. Now was a good time for the conversation he’d meant to have with Yuuri. “I have to go to Krasnoyarsk.”

“So I can compete in Nationals,” were supposed to be the next words, but what if they sounded too confident? What would Yuuri think he was saying, “I can’t go to your little party because I need to go win a gold medal?” He didn’t want Yuuri to think he saw the world that way.

“Oh.” Yuuri placed a hand over Victor’s. “It’s ok,” he reassured Victor. “You’re busy. I understand.”

The explanation rose to his lips, but he couldn’t give it a voice. He just nodded.

“When are you coming back?” Yuuri asked.

“The twenty-ninth.” Another four day absence. Just like last time. And just like last time, he waited for Yuuri to ask why he had to go, but Yuuri didn’t say anything about it. Just like last time.

“Four days is a long time,” Yuuri said with a heavy sigh and took his hand away.

Victor had nothing to say to that.

“You can finish it,” Yuuri told him, indicating the remains of the lobster on the plate between them. “I need to go use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

Victor watched him leave and lowered his eyes to his plate. There was barely anything left and, so, it didn’t take him long to finish.

The waiter appeared almost at the very instant Victor pushed the empty plate away. “I can bring some champagne,” he offered in a conspiratorial whisper. “If you want, you can give it to me and I’ll slip it into a glass.”

“Give what?” Victor echoed in confusion.

The waiter threw a quick glance around himself and lowered his voice. “You know… _it_. The _thing_ you’re going to give him.” He gave the most exaggerated wink Victor had ever seen.

“I’m sorry?” Victor’s confusion grew with every passing second. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, man!” The waiter leaned closer and whispered, “the ring.”

“What ring?” Why was the waiter talking about rings and champagne? Why was he still winking? Did he get something in his eye?

“Aren’t you…?” the waiter stepped back and gave him a long searching look. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“No. Should I?” The whole exchange was beginning to alarm him. Did the waiter mistake him for someone else? Was this table originally reserved by someone else?

“I thought…” the waiter looked around yet again and whispered, “look, are you here to propose to your boyfriend, or not?”

“Boyfriend? Oh, you mean _Yuuri_.” He nodded at the empty chair opposite him. “No, I’m afraid not.” He gave a heavy sigh. “I doubt he’d want to marry me, in any case.”

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself!” the waiter chided him. “You’re a very handsome man!” He lowered his voice again and added, “And I’m game to try to make your boyfriend jealous, if you think that will help.”

“Is something wrong?” Yuuri asked, appearing before them.

Victor caught the way the waiter raised his eyebrows and looked away. “No. I’d like the bill, please.”

Here it was – that discomfort again, sitting in the pit of his stomach as if he’d eaten something that hadn’t agreed with him.

The waiter left and Yuuri put his arms around Victor. “What was he saying to you when I left?” Yuuri whispered. “You looked ready to run from him.”

“It was just a misunderstanding,” Victor assured Yuuri. It _had_ just been a misunderstanding and nothing more, but he needed to get the words out. He needed to hear them so that he knew they were true. “He thought I was going to propose to you, so he offered… something with the ring.” Victor frowned. “I didn’t really understand what he meant. Something with champagne and rings…”

Yuuri’s laughter filled the silence that followed. He held Victor close to his chest and laughed. “Oh, Victor! I’m sorry… I thought…” He pulled away and grinned. “I was worried…” He blushed and looked away. “Ahem. I thought he was making you uncomfortable, except he obviously _was_. I just thought he was… hitting on you, or something.”

“He kept winking at me!” Victor exclaimed and clapped a hand over his mouth, terrified the waiter had heard him.

Yuuri held on tightly to Victor. “Let me take the bill,” he whispered.

“No, no, I ate most of the food! It wouldn’t be fair to you!” Victor protested. He wouldn’t back down no matter what Yuuri tried and he downright refused to split the bill.

The evening hadn’t been completely ruined. When they stepped out into the cold night, Yuuri slipped an arm around Victor’s and clung on.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

Victor’s arm felt charged with electricity. He nodded. “This is perfect.”

They wandered the dark streets until they got to Yuuri’s building and, without stopping to think, Victor followed Yuuri inside and up the stairs to his apartment.

When they reached Yuuri’s door, they stopped. Yuuri fiddled with the lock as Victor took in the corridor. It smelled strongly of cigarettes here as well as something foul he didn’t recognize.

Finally the lock clicked and Yuuri held the door open to let Victor in.

At first, Victor thought he’d stepped into a closet, or a small corridor that was supposed to lead to a bigger room, but then he realized that here was Yuuri’s apartment: one room which seemed to function as all rooms at once and had a half kitchen in the distant corner.

The walls were covered with ballet posters and there was a clothing rack in the corner with pastel-coloured clothes, but nothing else about the place suggested that Yuuri actually lived here.

He looked around, feeling lost for words. Yuuri backed against a wall and stared at him with a slightly frightened look in his eyes, as if he thought that Victor was about to get angry for some reason.

Victor took Yuuri’s hands gently with both of his. “It’s getting late,” he said. “You need to rest.” He pulled Yuuri close and put his arms around the boy. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

Yuuri’s arms rose and wrapped themselves around Victor. “Yes,” he whispered back. “Tomorrow.”

Tomorrow came, full of snow and ice, and they met again. They met every day after that right up until the 23rd. They visited the orphanage twice. The second time they stayed until the kids all went to sleep and Victor sat by one of their beds and read aloud while Yuuri read to kids in a different room.

The bedrooms had ten children in each of them. Yuuri and Victor promised to read to all the kids, going through an anthology of short stories, one story for each bedroom. To make it easier on both of them, Yuuri and Victor split up.

Yuuri finished first. He crossed the hall and found Victor sitting in a chair with children gathered on all sides of him, catching every word with slightly open mouths. Vanya was in the bed right by Victor’s chair. He put his head down on the man’s shoulder and followed the words on the page.

Yuuri leaned against the doorway.

He liked his evenings with the children. They treated his and Victor’s visits like little holidays. They used every visit as a chance to show off their accomplishments. Victor never tired of looking at their drawings, listening to them play music, or helping them with their homework. Yuuri found himself enjoying it all too. This time he’d been greeted by little Olga who’d given him a picture of him and Victor as a welcome back present. He was holding it now as he waited patiently for Victor to get to the end of the book.

“…and they lived happily ever after,” Victor said, getting to the words Yuuri had been waiting for.

“Victor?” one of the kids said sleepily. “Will you come for New Years?”

“Of course I will!” Victor promised. “I can’t miss Santa’s visit, now can I?”

For a brief moment, Yuuri wondered if Santa was really Victor in a costume, but then another kid spoke up and proved him wrong.

“Did you memorize a poem this time, Victor? You know last time Santa said you won’t get a present unless you recite it perfectly this year.”

Victor placed the book on the table on his other side and got up. The kids all ran to their beds, asking to be tucked in. “I’ll do my best,” he promised as he straightened out the blanket draped over Vanya.

“I memorized mine!” another kid boasted and Victor walked over to tuck him in next.

“I’m glad.”

“Me too! Me too!” the other kids piped up.

He moved from bed to bed and only when he tucked in the last kid, did he raise his head and notice Yuuri standing in the doorway. “Yuuri will need to memorize one too.”

In the absence of a proper reply, Yuuri kept smiling and hoping that would be enough.

That was when, with no warning at all, his mind dug up the memory of the waiter who’d thought that Victor was going to propose. He felt the smile freeze on his face. Why had he laughed at that at the time? There was nothing funny about it.

Victor joined Yuuri in the doorway and turned around to face the children. “Good night, everyone!” he called out.

“Good night, Victor! Good night, Yuuri!” they chorused back. The words were echoed in all the bedrooms down the hall.

“Good night, everyone!” Yuuri called to every kid who could hear him.

This time the staff saw them out and waved them off as they drove away in the taxi.

Yuuri shifted closer to Victor in the back seat and put an arm around him.

“What’s that in your hand?” Victor asked.

Yuuri held up the drawing. “Olga drew us together.”

Victor shifted closer for a better look. “It’s beautiful! What will you do with it?”

“It needs a frame,” Yuuri said. “I just don’t have one.”

“A frame is a great idea,” Victor agreed. “I framed the first few drawings, but now I keep them in albums. Next time you come visit, I can show them to you.”

The suggestion brought a smile to Yuuri’s face. “An album is a brilliant idea!” He was tired. It had been a long day. He lowered his head onto Victor’s shoulder, remembering those kids.

If only Victor could read him some bedtime stories too! His mind drifted on a strange course. First, presenting him with the image of Victor reading bedtime stories to him, then – oddly enough – Victor proposing and finally: Victor holding a newborn child in his arms as he sang a lullaby in a gentle and soothing voice…

“We’re here.”

Yuuri awoke with a start. He felt disoriented. Where was he? What had he been doing? He saw Victor’s face and wondered if he’d slept with Victor. Then he realized that he _had_ slept with Victor, or rather _next to_ Victor and not at all in a way he generally tended to sleep with handsome men. He shifted away, stretched and only then did he realize that he’d fallen asleep in the back of a taxi.

Victor climbed out of the car first and Yuuri followed him, doing his best to wake himself up.

Their hands joined without either of them giving it much thought. The gesture familiar now like returning home. More than that, walking side by side without holding on to each other felt wrong.

“You look exhausted,” Victor observed. “It’s my fault. Sorry we stayed with the kids for so long today.”

“It’s fine, really…” Yuuri mumbled. His eyes had a hard time staying open and someone had filled them with sand. God, he needed sleep! He was starting to feel a little dizzy too.

Victor caught Yuuri. “We should’ve gone straight to your place,” he said with a sad look in his eyes. “Why don’t you stay over at mine? I don’t think going back now is a good idea and I have a spare bedroom you can use.”

Yuuri blinked at Victor. Why was the man talking about bedrooms? He remembered the proposal again and grinned. “It’s been a while since I…” He swayed on his feet and Victor tightened his hold. “Take me,” Yuuri whispered and passed out.

Yuuri woke up with a face full of sunshine. He winced and turned over, trying to go back to sleep, but his subconscious was picking up little signals from his surroundings, telling him that something was wrong.

His bed felt more comfortable than he remembered. The sheets smelled like flowers. There were other smells too, combined they translated into food, possibly breakfast.

He opened his eyes.

His room looked different from how he remembered it. There was a small bedside table with a lamp and his glasses resting on it. A chair stood against one wall. The wall…

He wasn’t in his bed, in his apartment.

Yuuri sat up sharply and saw Victor perched on the edge of his bed.

“Good morning!” Victor greeted him and rose to his feet. “Sorry, I came in to wake you up, but you looked so peaceful that I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

Yuuri realized then that the sun was already up, which meant only one thing. “How late is it?” He braced himself for the answer.

Victor glanced at the wall behind Yuuri. “Just past noon. You slept for over twelve hours.”

“Oh no!” Yuuri exclaimed. “I’m going to be late – I missed most of the rehearsal!” He jumped off the bed, but Victor blocked his way.

“You should have breakfast first,” Victor insisted. “I cooked some for you.”

Yuuri hesitated. He needed to go. He was in so much trouble for being late, but Victor had put in the effort to make food for him and he couldn’t just ignore that. There were another seven hours left until that night’s performance. He was in a lot of trouble already. What difference would another 15 minutes make?

“Alright,” he relented. Then he realized that he was still in his clothes from the day before. “I’ll… uh… take a shower first and…” But he didn’t have anything to change into.

“You can borrow my clothes, if you want,” Victor offered. “I should have some shirts and a few pairs of pants that are too small for me, but should be just right for you.

Yuuri accepted this too. He felt a little embarrassed about it, but it made sense. He’d just have to wash all the clothes before returning them to Victor.

He waited while Victor retrieved the clothes from his room, fidgeting.

“Here,” Victor offered two shirts and two pairs of pants. “If these don’t fit you, or if you don’t like them, I can look for something else.”

“N-no, I think these will be fine,” Yuuri protested.

“There’s a big light blue towel in the bathroom,” Victor went on. “It’s brand new. You can use that one.”

Yuuri nodded as Victor talked about soap and a new toothbrush and suppressed a sigh. His accidental visit was giving Victor so much trouble.

“What’s wrong?” Victor asked.

Yuuri lowered his head. “I’m sorry for all the trouble. Aren’t – You said you were buy today…” He clapped a hand over his mouth, terrified that he was about to let slip more than he’d intended.

It was the 24th, the first day of the Russian Figure Skating Nationals. Yuuri knew that Victor wasn’t competing until the 25th, but didn’t he have to fly, or take a train, or something to travel to Krasnoyarsk?

Victor glanced at his watch. “I have another four hours. Don’t worry about me. Go, take a shower. I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”

“Ok… Thank you.”

After a refreshing shower and brushing his teeth, Yuuri pulled on the clothes Victor had leant him. The jeans were just right, but both shirts were a little wide in the shoulders. Victor had also added a sweater. It had a brown poodle on it.

Yuuri stared down at his clothes. The last time he’d borrowed another man’s clothes was after he’d had sex with the man in question. Yuuri had only meant to stay for a few hours that time, but they’d worn each other out. The man had even fallen asleep with his head between Yuuri’s thighs.

Yuuri raised an arm and sniffed the sleeve. The sweater smelled like Victor. Maybe he could keep these clothes. No, that was a stupid thought.

Was it though?

He walked back to the kitchen where he found Victor setting the table.

“Ah,” Victor straightened up. “I’m glad that it fits you.”

“I’ll wash it after,” Yuuri promised, feeling his cheeks glow.

“You don’t have to,” Victor reassured him. “Those clothes are too small for me, anyway. You can have them, if you want. You can even leave them here just in case you sleep over again.”

Yuuri stared into Victor’s face. He watched his mouth form the words “sleep over” and thought again of the ex who’d fallen asleep between his thighs.

 _No,_ his memory interrupted, _not between your thighs. He’d fallen asleep on your dick._

They stared at each other for a very long time without saying a word. Finally Victor broke the silence. “Why don’t you eat? The food is getting cold.”

“Right.” Yuuri sat down. There was an odd discomfort in the air he hadn’t felt in a long time. He thought he and Victor were perfectly comfortable with each other now and now he saw that he’d been wrong.

Victor busied himself around Yuuri, setting the table with four different breakfast options for him to choose from.

Guilt reared its ugly head. How long had Victor been awake for? Had he spent several hours waiting for Yuuri to wake up, just cooking food? He probably had.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said. “You really didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to.” Victor leaned close and set another plate down on the table.

Yuuri put a hand on Victor’s arm and raised his eyes. _I’m going to miss him. I’m going to miss all of this – this feeling of home when we’re together._

“What’s wrong?” Victor asked.

 _I want to come with you, but I can’t._ Yuuri lowered his head and took his hand away. “Nothing, I just… Thank you.”

Victor pressed his hand gently against Yuuri’s arm and stepped away to get the kettle. “Do you want tea or coffee?”

“Tea, please,” Yuuri answered. He pulled his hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I slept for 12 hours straight!”

“You were very tired,” Victor reassured him. “I’m sure you work very hard to prepare for each performance.”

Yuuri didn’t argue. It was true. He hadn’t been getting enough sleep over the past few weeks. He wished the days had been longer so he could spend more time with Victor and so he could’ve had more time to do his chores.

There was still Victor’s present to worry about. If it hadn’t been bad luck to celebrate birthdays early, he would’ve given Victor his present now. But he couldn’t. Not when Victor was about to leave for four days.

He finished eating and got up to clear the table.

“You don’t need to,” Victor said, catching Yuuri by the hand. “You’re missing your rehearsal.”

Yuuri wanted to argue. He wanted to stay until Victor had to go, but he knew that he couldn’t. It wasn’t fair, but then so few things in life had ever been fair…

He caught Victor in a hug and whispered, “I’ll miss you.”

“Me too.”

“Take care of yourself.” He wanted to add more. The words were all there on his tongue, but a big lump was rising in his throat and he didn’t want to start crying. He was terrified that Victor – who always gave so much to other people – might see the tears and take it as a sign that he ought to stay. And if there was one thing Yuuri absolutely didn’t want it was for Victor to miss a competition because of him.

It was so hard to tear himself away and leave even with Victor walking him all the way to his apartment and then onwards to the ballet studio. More than hard, it was bordering on impossible.

“Text me when you get there,” Yuuri whispered into Victor’s ear as they exchanged a farewell hug. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

They pulled apart and took a good long took at each other, taking each other in.

“You take care of yourself too,” Victor said.

Yuuri nodded. “Go,” he whispered. “I’ll stand here and watch you leave.”

Victor hesitated, as if unable to understand the request. Yuuri’s determination must’ve shown on his face, because instead of arguing, Victor merely nodded.

He turned around and walked away, stopping several times to wave at Yuuri.

Yuuri felt his heart ache. Four days was such a long time. His imagination painted him so many things that could go wrong in that time, his head began to spin.

He forced himself to turn around and go attend practice. He was just upset by their separation. This wasn’t a foreboding. It wasn’t. He wouldn’t let it be one.

Much to Yuuri’s surprise, he didn’t get into trouble for coming late. He’d half-expected to be fired for coming so late and had even already decided that if it happened, he would join Victor and go to Krasnoyarsk with him, but no one even commented on his late arrival.

It was a little unnerving.

The real trial came that evening at the party Phichit had organized to celebrate Alex and Elena’s birthdays.

They gathered at a restaurant where everyone except Yuuri had too much to drink within the first ten minutes of arriving. Phichit told stories that were hilarious to everyone but Yuuri. Alex recounted his life story three times, each time changing bits of his story to add impossible events in. Elena gave a speech about her love for ballet and for everyone present. It ended in tears and everyone trying to comfort her. Mila and Sara decided that they were only interested in each other and didn’t care what other saw or thought. And Yuuri remained quiet and wondered why he’d bothered coming.

Phichit had also invited Guillaume and Françoise – two dancers Yuuri rarely ever talked to. They had both come to St. Petersburg from France and married each other here. Their relationship was more reserved than Mila and Sara’s, but it soon turned out that all that stood between them and making out in public were several glasses of wine.

Yuuri shifted uncomfortably in his seat. On one side of him Guillaume had just pulled Françoise onto his lap as they both got very deep into their kiss while at the opposite end of the table Mila and Sara were on the next stage, which for them meant Mila sticking her hands up Sara’s shirt and not minding at all if said shirt rose to reveal what Sara had on under it.

“Yuuri, why aren’t you drinking?” Phichit asked.

He just shook his head. “I don’t want to.” He decided not to point out that Phichit had already asked this question several times. He hadn’t asked in that nagging way of “come on, drink with us”, but in a polite way that suggested that – to him – he was asking for the first time that evening.

Phichit tried to pat Yuuri on the shoulder and missed. “I get it: you wish Victor was here. I’m sure he wishes he could be here too.” Phichit frowned. “Why isn’t he here?”

Yuuri threw a glance in Mila and Sara’s direction and then looked back at Phichit. “He’s in Krasnoyarsk right now, competing.” He had to go home. He couldn’t stay here a moment longer. He wanted to roll up in his bed and cry. He was missing Victor so much it hurt.

“Who is Victor?” Alex asked, a little too loudly, but no one other than Yuuri seemed to notice.

“Victor is Yuuri’s boyfriend,” Phichit answered and giggled. “Victor, as in – Victor Nikiforov! You know: the champion of everything! He’s got a gold medal in every figure skating competition out there!”

“Oh _him_ ,” Elena said. “You’re dating _him_ , Yuuri?” Elena’s face assembled itself into a very unpleasant expression and she opened her mouth to add more.

Phichit caught her by the shoulder and grinned at Yuuri. “We’re all just _dying_ to meet him, Yuuri. Who don’t you bring him along to our New Year’s party?”

This suggestion caught Yuuri completely off guard. He hadn’t heard anything about a New Year’s party. He’d barely even thought about his own plans for New Year’s.

And then he remembered that he’d already made plans for New Year’s.

_“Victor?” a little boy whispered, staring at the skater through half-closed eyes. “Will you come for New Year’s?”_

_“Of course I will.”_

His heart filled with warmth. He wanted Victor to be back already. He wanted to go to the orphanage again and see all the kids. He wanted to spend another evening reading aloud to them, or painting with them, or playing hide and seek, or anything else Victor could think of. That promised to be infinitely better than this – watching others get drunk and waiting for his chance to leave.

This last thought was like a lead weight bringing him down from the sky and he remembered where he was and with who.

“I won’t be there for the New Year’s party,” Yuuri said flatly.

Three ballet dancers stared at him as the two couples at the table continued to make out with each other.

“Why not?” Phichit asked, suddenly looking completely sober.

 _Because I already made plans. Because spending an evening with children that are happy to see me is much better than getting drunk._ “I promised Victor that I’ll go with him,” Yuuri explained.

“Go where?” Phichit shifted closer. “Is there another party happening? Or is this an event just for you two?”

Mila chose that moment to make a loud happy sound as Sara pushed against her.

Yuuri forced himself not to look at them. Had he ever made out with one of his boyfriends in public like that? Had it been just as awkward for everyone around him? He couldn’t remember.

“Does it matter? I already made plans.” The words had come out more snappish than he’d intended them to.

“We can combine the parties, if it’s another party,” Phichit went on insisting. “The more, the merrier, right? And, besides, if there will be more figure skaters involved, then even better!” He gave Yuuri a big grin. “You’re not the only one who has a thing for figure skaters, you know.”

Yuuri wanted to protest that he _didn’t_ have a thing for figure skaters. He worried that if he didn’t clear up their misunderstanding about Victor now, then it was bound to come up in the worst way possible and make things uncomfortable between him and Victor. And he really didn’t want to lose that feeling of comfort that he always got when he was around Victor.

But then he saw the glint in Phichit’s eye and knew that there was no use arguing.

“So what _are_ you planning?” Alex asked. He exchanged a look with Elena and tapped his nose.

Yuuri remembered too late that he was sitting in the presence of two of his exes while discussing a man they thought was his current boyfriend. How did he end up in such an awkward situation?

“If it’s going to be a Yuuri-adoration party, maybe we can join?” Alex added and laughed.

Elena opened her mouth to protest and then stopped with the expression of someone seriously considering the suggestion and possibly even letting her imagination draw her a picture.

The truth needed to come out now. No more delays.

“I’m _not_ dating Victor!” Yuuri declared coldly. “We’re not going to a party!” He saw Phichit open his mouth and cut in before he could say anything else. “And there won’t be any sex involved!” He could feel the cold he was radiating now. “If you must know, and if it will put a stop to all the comments and jokes, Victor and I planned to go to an orphanage and celebrate New Year’s with the children there.” His voice wavered, but he kept talking. “It’s an orphanage that Victor’s family opened and that he watches over. We’re going to get an actor to dress up as Santa Claus and bring them presents.” Now there were tears building up in his eyes. “ _That’s_ why I can’t – I _don’t want to_ come to any party!”

He realized then that both couples had interrupted their make out sessions to turn around and stare at him. He felt his face burn. His words had come out all wrong, as if he was looking down on them. It was a holiday and their chance to rest. How they did it was up to them. He wasn’t judging them for that. Not when he knew how hard they all worked to get every performance right.

He was just so tired of all the unjustified hate Victor got. He didn’t care if people made jokes about his – that is Yuuri’s – adventurous love life, but Victor was another matter. Victor was a saint and free from blame.

“I… He runs an orphanage?” Elena asked in a small voice. “I had no idea.”

“He doesn’t advertise it,” Yuuri said, trying and failing to sound softer. “He has a kind heart and I… I just want…” He stopped, not knowing how to finish that sentence. He let out a heavy sigh. “To help him.” _To always be there with him. To see him happy._ There were suddenly so many ways to finish that sentence.

“Well…” Phichit began slowly and Yuuri braced himself for an argument. “…I don’t think you’ll stay up late with the children…”

Yuuri frowned, terrified of where this was going.

“You can come to the party afterwards!” Phichit looked around, as if expecting to be congratulated for this idea.

 _Or I can stay there overnight. Or I can go home and rest. Or I can stay over at Victor’s apartment again._ This last possibility made his heart beat faster.

“Orrr…” Mila cut in, exchanging a look and a nod with Sara, “…we can all come with you and visit the kids!” She hesitated as everyone turned to stare at her. “We’re allowed to come visit, right?”

Now they were all staring at Yuuri.

“I… don’t see why not,” Yuuri said. “I’ll need to ask Victor first, thought,” he added hastily.

“And we can all party it up afterwards!” Sara added.

Yuuri waited for someone to say that they were too busy, or not interested, or to come up with any excuse at all not to go, but – much to his surprise – they all took to this idea. Elena, who had been so icy just a few minutes ago, asked what they should bring and when Yuuri couldn’t recommend something, started coming up with her own answers.

“We can try to get some presents for the kids!” was her first suggestion. “How many did you say there were?”

“Two hundred and thirty-five,” Yuuri answered. Two more had been admitted a week ago. Victor had been very excited about that.

“Wow! Two hundred and thirty-five!” Mila exclaimed. “I don’t know if I can afford so many presents! Maybe we can bring things for the orphanage that all of them can use?”

As she said those words Yuuri realized that Victor would come with a person doing a perfect impersonation of Santa Claus and a bag – no _bags_ – full of two hundred and thirty-five individually wrapped presents. Each one will be labelled with a kid’s name and contain something chosen based on their specific interests. He will grand two hundred and thirty-five wishes in one night.

Yuuri’s heart beat faster. Maybe even two hundred and thirty-six.

“What about books?” Alex suggested. “I’ve got dozens of old kids’ books I don’t need anymore. I can donate those.”

“Victor buys them new ones every month,” Yuuri replied without thinking.

“Oh come on – they’ll want _toys_ ,” Phichit spoke up. “That’s what every kid wants.”

“They have stuffed toys, board games, and every toy vehicle you can imagine,” Yuuri said.

The ballet dancers exchanged a very impressed look and Yuuri was suddenly aware that _none_ of them were drunk. They were all stone cold sober.

“Wow!” Mila whispered. “He’s thought of everything! I’m all out of ideas now.”

Elena shook her head. “There’s one present no one can give them…”

There was a long silence and Yuuri thought of Victor reading them bedtime stories.

“I think…” he began and stopped, not daring to finish his thought.

“I got it!” Mila exclaimed, clapping her hands.

“Oh my god, me too!” Phichit joined in. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Mila laughed. “Probably.”

As Yuuri watched them, it dawned on him that in some ways Mila and Phichit had very similar personalities. They carried on like an acting duo performing a well-rehearsed routine and Yuuri found himself wondering how he’d missed the obvious fact that they were best friends.

“We’ll give the kids what only _we_ can give!” Mila declared, rising to her feet and striking a dramatic pose.

“The gift of good ballet!” Phichit added.

They burst out laughing while everyone else considered it. Finally their laughter died down and Mila swept her hair out of her face. “Well? What do you think?”

“We’re going to need a stage…” Sara began.

“Can we bring them to our theatre?” Elena suggested.

“You think we’ll be allowed to put on a free performance?” Ale asked skeptically. “On the 31st? When everyone wants to go home and cook the New Year’s dinner and decorate the tree?”

“But… they’re _orphans_ ,” Mila pointed out. “Don’t people want to do something good for children who had no parents?”

“Boris Ivanovich only thinks about his purse,” Alex grumbled.

Françoise shifted forward in her seat. “We can tell him that we’ll pay for it. What do we need? Some volunteers and someone to cover the electricity bill.”

“And cleaners,” Alex added glumly.

Yuuri watched in amazement as a group of dancers he thought were wasted out of their minds made plans for a free performance of the Nutcracker, modified a little so that all the principal dancers could participate.

Mila went to the bar to borrow a pen and paper. Phichit made calls to different contacts of his. _This is happening. It’s really happening._

“Wait! Everyone wait!” he interrupted and then coloured as they went silent and looked at him. “I… I need Victor to agree to this. I think it’s a good idea, but it’s up to him to make the decision.”

“Can you ask him now?” Phichit asked. “Can you just call him right now?”

Yuuri pulled his phone out of his pocket. Victor had texted him four hours earlier to say that he’d made it to Krasnoyarsk without a problem. It was getting close to midnight. If Yuuri waited for a half hour more he could also wish Victor a happy birthday and offer his idea up as a present.

Except that he had a better idea in mind and for that he needed to see Victor in person. He really, _really_ wanted to see Victor in person.

“I’ll try,” he promised and hit the call button.

It took a few seconds for the call to connect and then he heard Victor’s voice and his heart leapt in his chest.

“Yuuri?” he sounded surprised, as if the phone call had caught him off guard.

Yuuri forced his mind to focus on the reason he was calling. He couldn’t let himself imagine Victor all alone in a hotel room in a small town with his birthday coming up the next day.

Too late.

Focus.

“Yuuri, is everything alright?”

“What? Oh. Everything is fine. I have a request, or rather – a proposal.” He winced as soon as the word was out of his mouth. They were all watching him, straining to hear both sides of the conversation.

“Y-yes?” Victor’s voice wavered.

Yuuri licked his lips. “I told the other principal dancers about your orphanage and they want to put on a ballet for the children. They’ll have to come to the theatre, but we think we can make it all work… What do you say?”

There was a long silence as Victor considered and Yuuri felt his heart beat in terror. He shouldn’t have told anyone about the orphanage without first getting Victor’s permission. What will he think of Yuuri now?

“It sounds like a wonderful idea!” Victor exclaimed at last, putting all of Yuuri’s fears to rest.

“Really?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll have to hire several buses to bring them to the Theatre, but they’ll be so happy to…”

Yuuri wasn’t listening to the words Victor was saying. All he heard was that enthusiastic tone. _I wish I was with you right now._

It was so hard to end the conversation and saw goodbye after that. Yuuri pocketed his phone and realized that they were all staring at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Isn’t Victor competing tomorrow?” Sara asked and Yuuri felt his heart sink because he could already see where this was heading.

“He is.”

“Why didn’t you wish him luck, or something?”

Well, at least, he had a convincing lie for this one. “I don’t really know how to do that. I mean – won’t it be a little odd to wish Victor luck?” He did his best to look like he was telling the truth and not at all like there was a great big lie hiding behind Sara’s observation.

“I guess…”

Phichit brought up New Year’s again and they fell to planning who will do what. Yuuri was prepared to swear that Phichit threw several glances his way during the conversation.

The party ended on a very different note than how it had begun. The ballet dancers went their separate ways, wishing each other goodnight. He caught sight of Sara and Mila exchanging a long tender kiss as they gripped each other’s hands and looked away.

“Goodnight, darling,” Mila said.

“What do you mean – goodnight?” Sara laughed. “I’m going to spend tonight with you!”

Mila laughed. “Just checking how drunk you are.”

Both women laughed as they walked away, exchanging more kisses as they flirted.

Yuuri watched him go, his thoughts full of Victor.

Phichit cleared his throat beside him. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

Yuuri tried to bury all his feelings. “No.” He turned and started to walk away, but Phichit followed close behind him. Yuuri said nothing. He didn’t know how to shake Phichit off. Maybe Phichit wasn’t going to keep asking questions. Maybe he happened to live in the same direction and was just walking this way to keep Yuuri company.

He knew this wasn’t true, but he was suddenly aware of just how much he didn’t want to talk home alone. He didn’t want to spend the night all by himself. He wanted, no _needed_ Victor there with him and if Phichit was willing to keep him company for a little while, then he would accept that for the time being.

“You really miss him, don’t you?” Phichit asked.

Yuuri nodded.

For a moment, it looked like Phichit was going to add something, but then he seemed to reconsider and merely smiled. “Good night, Yuuri.”

“Good night.”

The rest of the way home took too long. He tried not to think about how only that morning he’d woken up in Victor’s apartment and borrowed his clothes.

When he entered his apartment and heard how quiet it was, the feeling of loneliness only got worse.

He wasn’t going to cry. He was an adult and he would deal with it like an adult. He will make it through these four days and be with Victor again. He was an adult. He could deal with this.

Yuuri curled up under the blankets and wept, clutching a big chunk of his blanket to his chest.

_Yuuri lay on his back with Victor’s arms curved around him. It was dark all around them, but Yuuri could see Victor’s face very clearly. There was a deep sadness in his eyes._

_“Yuuri…” he whispered._

_He realized then that they were both naked._

_Victor lowered his head and pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s chest._

_Yuuri trailed his fingers through Victor’s hair. This was what he wanted more than anything._ This.

_Victor moved a little and left another kiss on Yuuri’s skin and another. He moved down a little and then to the side and up and Yuuri realized that Victor’s kisses were going around in a circle._

More _, Yuuri urged with his mind. His skin began to burn under Victor’s touch. He pulled Victor down and spread his legs. He couldn’t tell what Victor was doing with his lower body, but he wanted to pull it down until they touched. He wanted…_

Yuuri awoke. He lay still as his heart raced. His whole body was still on fire. He turned over and covered his face with his hands.

He knew what he really wanted. But there was no having it this time. Not with Victor who still treated hugs as very intimate touching. Not with Victor who didn’t believe in half-measures: when he gave himself, it was his whole self that he gave away, not expecting any of it back. He wouldn’t understand one-night stands, or casual hook ups. He would be serious all the way.

Yuuri put his hands over his face. He was Victor’s _friend_ , his best friend! It was his job to look after Victor and make sure he was ok.

He sat up sharply. How could he have been so stupid? It was Victor’s birthday! He had to be there with him!

He leapt off the bed and into the bathroom. As he brushed his teeth and got dressed, he checked for train tickets to Krasnoyarsk.

There was no direct train. It would take him two and a half days to get there and he’d have to switch several times.

Yuuri made a frustrated sound and searched for flights instead. This time he got lucky and found a cheap last minute ticket. More preparations followed as he had to make arrangements to pick up Victor’s present early.

Two hours later he was in Pulkovo Airport’s terminal for local flights. The waiting areas were all packed with people. They were all either talking in loud voices, or eating something, or coughing and sneezing.

Yuuri sat in the only free spot he could find with a bag of clothes for a few days resting on his laps and waited anxiously for his flight. His heart beat fast in his chest and he wondered how he would find Victor. He didn’t know where the figure skaters were staying and he wasn’t sure if people would let him go see Victor, but he had to try. It was Victor’s birthday. He had to remember that.

Beside him a little girl began to cry. Her mother snapped at her, threatening to punish her if she didn’t stop. The girl wept on, trying to keep quiet, but the pain and distress remained on her face.

She reminded Yuuri of little Olga from the orphanage who would sometimes find a little corner and cry quietly. Victor had found her at it several times, but it took him a long time to figure out why she was so distressed.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri whispered to the little girl crying beside him now. “Are you hungry?”

The girl nodded and threw an uneasy glance at her mother who had turned away to talk to a man who was probably her husband.

Yuuri rummaged in his bag. He didn’t have a lot of money left. The ticket and Victor’s present had cost him most of his savings, but this was an emergency. “Look after my bag,” he whispered to the girl and left to see if there was something he could buy for her form the café.

He returned five minutes later with a sandwich that succeeded in looking like the most appetizing option offered by the café. He waited to make sure the girl’s mother was looking the other way and handed it to her.

She wolfed it down gratefully.

 _I don’t think I would’ve done that before I met Victor,_ he suddenly thought. _I wouldn’t have known how to deal with a crying child._

He watched her smile at him. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“Yuuri,” he told her.

“Thank you, Yuuri.”

He was hit then by just how much he missed all the children.

The girl frowned at him. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Wrong? No, not at all,” he reassured her.

“Only you look like you’re ready to cry,” she observed.

He couldn’t argue with that because it was true. _Pull yourself together,_ he told himself. _You’ll be with Victor soon. Everything is fine. It will be fine._

Only he’d just spent most of his savings to get to Victor, which left him with almost no money in case of an emergency. The enormity of what he’d done hit him then. But it didn’t matter, Yuuri told himself, Victor deserved everything. Only Yuuri was about to run out of things to give.

“Do you want to play a game?” he asked the little girl.

She continued frowning at him. “Will it cheer you up?”

“Yes. Definitely!”

“Ok. What game?” She grinned as if she’d already won and Yuuri felt a little better.

“The game is called “guess what present I’m carrying with me for my friend”.” This was going to go really well, he could already feel it. He indicated the bag. “The present is hiding inside.”

Her eyes went wide. “A present for your friend?” She gave the bag a long curious look and then raised her head to meet his gaze. “Is it their birthday soon?”

“It is.”

“Oh.” She got up and circled the bag.

To his surprise, she guessed very quickly. It was only a shame that her mother chose that moment to notice that her daughter was talking to a stranger and switched seats with her, shooting Yuuri a dozen angry glares.

Yuuri didn’t say anything. What could he possibly say? He felt his luck begin to run out and so it came as no surprise to him when the flight got delayed and when he ended up in a seat with almost no leg room and two very unpleasant neighbours.

But all that didn’t matter, he told himself, because he was going to see Victor.

Victor finished warming up with the last group and got off the ice to wait for his turn. His head was full of Yuuri. His phone call had come as a pleasant surprise and the offer had left him speechless.

A ballet show put on just for the children? Why hadn’t he thought of something like that? He could take them on more trips after this one. They could go to the zoo and then a water park. Why had he kept them cooped up for so long? He would hire buses and bus drivers and organize a trip every week, he decided.

“Victor?” Yakov called.

He returned to the real world and faced his coach. “Is it my turn already?”

“No, no,” the old man assured him. “You seemed miles away and I got a little…” his voice trailed off. “You’re smiling.”

Victor touched his face. He _was_ smiling! Of course he was! He had something to be happy about!

And it was all thanks to Yuuri.


	6. Victor's Birthday

Krasnoyarsk wasn’t a big city, nowhere near the size of Moscow or St. Petersburg, but that didn’t make it any easier for first time visitors to navigate its streets. Luckily, Yuuri had the internet to help him find his way.

He made for the figure skating arena, doing his best to walk like someone who knew exactly where they were going. It was a pleasant walk, even if it did last almost a whole hour, but when Yuuri arrived at the Arena his mood fell: people were leaving. The competition was obviously over.

It then occurred to him that he didn’t know what to do next. There was probably security set up everywhere to keep the fans from bothering the figure skaters.

He couldn’t even stand at an exit and wait for Victor to come out: who knew how many exits there were at this arena and which of them he would use?

 _He’ll go to a hotel afterwards,_ Yuuri thought. _I can wait for him there._

There was only one problem with this plan: he didn’t know which hotel Victor was staying at.

That was when he noticed the tall building nearby with large letters at the top spelling out the word “hotel” in Russian. There was a good candidate.

He made for it, taking great care with his bag.

By the time he reached the hotel, a kind of plan formed in his mind. He entered the building as confidently as he could and made straight for the receptionist’s desk.

“Good evening!” he smiled politely at the receptionist. “Victor and I arranged to meet here once he was done competing, but I’m worried we might’ve missed each other. Did you see him go by?”

The receptionist gave him a cold look. “We’re not allowed to give our clients’ information to others.”

Well, that didn’t work.

Yuuri gave a nod. “I understand.” He turned away and left. At least this probably meant that he was staying here. Or maybe it didn’t, he wasn’t sure.

He took a spot on one of the couches by the door and watched people come in. It was getting dark and cold out and he really hoped that security wouldn’t come to kick him out.

Time passed and Yuuri began to panic. He worried that he’d guessed wrong and that Victor was staying somewhere on the other side of the city. Then he worried that he’d just missed Victor. He could stay here all night and he’d never know if this was Victor’s hotel or not.

What was he supposed to do now? Find somewhere to stay for the night and come back in the morning? But where could he possibly stay? He didn’t have enough money for a hotel and he didn’t know anyone who lived in Krasnoyarsk.

He lowered his head onto his hands and then raised it again, remembering that he was supposed to keep watching the door.

He’d come all this way to wish Victor a happy birthday. He had to see him today. He’d just have to call Victor and try to figure out how to meet him without giving away that he was here. Yuuri had no idea _how_ he could do that, but surely admitting he’d come here was just as good as catching Victor by surprise when –

The front door opened and Victor stepped in. His face was wrapped in a scarf and there was a hat on his head, but Yuuri could still recognize him despite this obvious attempt to hide his identity.

Yuuri got up and almost ran, remembering at the last moment about Victor’s present still in his bag.

“Victor!”

“Yuuri?” He stood there, looking shocked. For a brief moment, Yuuri worried that Victor wasn’t happy to see him, that he shouldn’t have come all this way, but then Victor’s face melted into a big smile. “Yuuri!” he exclaimed and opened his arms and Yuuri leapt into his arms, forgetting about everything else. “Yuuri!” Victor clutched him close.

He leaned forward and only stopped himself at the last minute as he realized that he’d been on the verge of kissing Victor. “Happy birthday!” he whispered, their faces mere centimeters apart.

Victor’s eyes widened. “How did you know it was my birthday?”

“I got you a present,” Yuuri told him, avoiding the question and pulling free so he could open his bag and reach inside with one hand.

Victor stepped back.

No, this needed both his hands. Yuuri placed the bag on the floor with great care and used both hands to take out a little ball of fur which upon closer examination turned out to be a curled up puppy, who’d fallen asleep on top of Yuuri’s shirts.

“Oh my god…” Victor whispered.

“Happy birthday, Victor,” Yuuri repeated, holding the puppy out to him.

Victor accepted the puppy just as he woke up. They both watched the dog open his eyes and give Victor a sleep stare. Without stopping to think, the puppy reached up and licked Victor’s face.

“It’s nice to meet you too!” Victor replied with a laugh. “What’s his name?”

“I thought I’d let you name him.” They were both crouched down on the floor with the bag and the puppy between them. Yuuri reached out and put his hands on Victor’s arms. “He’s only three months old. The people at the store said he’ll grow up to be tall. He’s a poodle. I bought food for him. I hope it’s alright. If- if you don’t want to take care of him, I can do it.” He rambled on, desperate to know what Victor thought about his present. A dog was a lot of responsibility. What if he didn’t want to have a dog? How did this not occur to Yuuri earlier?

“He’s perfect,” Victor whispered, a big smile on his face.

The puppy licked his face. Something glistened on Victor’s cheeks and Yuuri realized that the man was crying.

“He’s so perfect.”

Yuuri hugged Victor close.

“Thank you,” Victor whispered.

Yuuri rested his head on Victor’s shoulder with his eyes closed, taking in the moment, committing every detail to memory.

Something like an eternity passed before they remembered where they were and pulled apart so they could get up.

Victor cradled the puppy in his arms. “How did you know where to find me?” he asked after a long pause.

“I made for the first hotel I found and hoped to get lucky, to be honest,” Yuuri admitted.

Then Victor seemed to come to his senses. “You flew all this way just for me?”

“Of course.” Yuuri smiled. “I didn’t want to miss your birthday.” He realized that if Victor asked him again how he knew when his birthday was he wouldn’t be able to answer. He would be forced to admit the truth and the truth was…

He watched Victor closely. It suddenly occurred to him that Victor had still not told him about being a figure skater. Would he do it now?

But Victor’s thoughts had taken an entirely different direction. “When is your birthday?” he asked, cradling the puppy fondly.

“November 29th,” Yuuri replied.

“What?” Victor raised his head and gave Yuuri a devastated look. “But that was only a couple of weeks ago! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yuuri didn’t know how to answer this question.

Victor lowered his head and stared at the puppy for some time. After a long silence he spoke again, “You must be very tired.”

As if by magic, the words made Yuuri realize that, yes, he was exhausted and hungry. His body, fed up with being ignored for so long was complaining louder than ever. “I just need… some rest.”

“A shower, dinner and some sleep,” Victor said in the tones of someone who knew the answer all too well.

Yuuri sighed. All three sounded wonderful. He’d only made it this far on pure willpower.

“Follow me,” Victor said and led the way to the elevators.

They went up to the top floor. Someone had designed the elevator to have a glass window so that people could look out as the city as they rose above it. Yuuri stared at the lights in amazement. There was the arena where Victor was supposed to compete tomorrow. He didn’t have any money left for tickets, but maybe he could stream it again?

“Yuuri…” Victor spoke up.

He turned around and smiled at the sight of Victor holding the puppy. “What?”

Victor opened his mouth.

The elevator made a loud “ding” and the doors opened to let them out.

“My room key is in my top pocket,” Victor whispered and Yuuri noticed then that the puppy had fallen asleep.

Yuuri’s imagination then presented him with an image of Victor holding a baby. He reached for Victor’s top pocket, as carefully as he could, doing his best to keep to the middle of pocket as much as possible. Had this been someone else, they would’ve probably been flirting now as Yuuri slipped his whole hand into his pocket. But Victor would have never thought of something like that. Knowing him, his thoughts were probably so far away from flirting that they were in another country altogether.

Once Yuuri looked at the key, he glanced around, trying to figure out which door was Victor’s.

“2026,” Victor told him.

With a nod, Yuuri headed for it. It took him a few seconds to figure out how to use the key card to open the door and then it swung open to reveal a room twice the size of Yuuri’s apartment. A very large bed stood in the middle, several blankets folded carefully over it.

The bag Victor had been carrying and that Yuuri had completely failed to notice before dropped with a heavy thud as Victor concentrated all his attention on the puppy.

Yuuri opened his own bag and took out the dog food and little bowl he’d bought.

“I’ll take care of it,” Victor assured him. “Go take a shower.”

Too tired to argue, Yuuri made for the bathroom, stopping to take everything he needed.

When, at last, he felt clean and refreshed, he came out of the bathroom to find Victor sitting in a chair and watching his puppy eat from the bowl.

“His name is Makkachin,” Victor announced.

“That’s a great name!” Yuuri told him.

While Yuuri took a shower, Victor used the time to think things through. He’d never expected Yuuri to come all this way just for him! And to bring a present for him too!

He wondered how much time they had together. Would Yuuri stay for a few days, or did he have to return tomorrow? That was a question he could partially answer himself: he already knew that he would be missing two of Yuuri’s performances: on the 24th and the 28th. Hopefully, that would at least give them two days together.

Two days during which he was supposed to prepare for a competition and then compete, he remembered. He had to tell Yuuri now.

The puppy chose that moment to wake up and whine at him.

“You must be hungry,” Victor said, putting the puppy down. “Don’t worry, I’ve got some food for you.” He poured it out onto the bowl and watched the puppy leap on it excitedly. “Now, what do you want me to call you?” He rubbed his hand over the dog’s soft fur. “How do you feel about Makkachin? Makkachin! Makkachin! Look at me!”

The puppy stopped eating and turned his head to look at Victor.

“Good dog!”

It was obvious to Victor that here was a very intelligent dog. He stroked Makkachin as he returned to eating and let his thoughts stray from the dog to the man who had brought him here.

He remembered the shock he’d felt when he’d seen how small and cramped Yuuri’s apartment was. It wasn’t conveniently close to the theatre or studio, either. Did this mean that Yuuri had settled for the cheapest he could find? He remembered the way Yuuri had reacted to eating out, or the look on his face when he’d first visited Victor’s apartment. Why hadn’t it occurred to him before? Yuuri didn’t have a lot of money. Maybe he was even having a hard time making ends meet. And here he was – flying to see Victor just like that.

 _Oh, Yuuri,_ he thought.

It was his turn to look after Yuuri now. That was why once Yuuri was done with his shower, Victor took the initiative.

“Let me take you out to dinner,” he said, crossing the distance between them and taking Yuuri by the hands.

“You don’t…” Yuuri began a faint protest, but Victor refused to listen.

“You came all this way just for me, so it’s only fair that I take care of you.” He smiled. “As for a hotel…” He hesitated before asking, “Did you already book a room somewhere?”

“No,” Yuuri admitted, lowering his head.

“I can try to get you –”

“No, no!” Yuuri protested. “I can’t let you go to all that trouble for my sake!” His face reddened a little.

Victor went on smiling. “Do you mind sharing with me? I can sleep on the floor –”

“ _I’ll_ take the floor!” Yuuri burst out. “Please!”

Victor studied the room thoughtfully. Maybe he could ask for extra blankets? But then Yuuri would continue to insist on sleeping on the floor while he would do his best to get Yuuri to take the bed.

The bed stood in the middle of the room, reminding him of how much the sight of a giant bed had surprised him when he’d first seen it.

“Well… the bed _is_ really huge…” he noted, half to himself. “I think we can share it without a problem.”

Yuuri opened his mouth, turned to stare at the bed and closed his mouth. He nodded, but he was facing away from Victor, making it impossible to tell what his expression was.

“Or, if you don’t want to share, we can take turns on the bed. When is your flight back?”

“On the 28th,” Yuuri said. “In the morning.”

“So that means you’ll be here for three nights,” Victor went on, unable to stop talking. He was suddenly scared that if he stopped, then something terrible would happen. “You can take the first night, since I used it last night.”

“No, no!” Yuuri protested. “I have no problem sharing with you!” He was facing Victor now and Victor would see the blush on Yuuri’s cheeks.

 _Oh. Is that what it is!_ “I promise to stay on my side of the bed,” Victor said. “I won’t hit you and wake you up in the middle of the night.”

“I… I didn’t…” Yuuri lowered his eyes, looking even more embarrassed now.

Victor pretended not to notice. He picked the puppy up in his arms. He was going to need a leash and a water bowl and a whole lot of other things. At least, he’d sorted out the question of pets with the hotel staff. Now it occurred to him that he had no idea if restaurants tended to allow pets, or what his chances were of finding one that wouldn’t mind.

“I’ll look for a place where we can eat,” he told Yuuri as he hastily googled the question on his phone, hoping that the answer would be favourable enough that Yuuri wouldn’t have to worry about this too.

Despite his fears, it had been easy to find somewhere for all three of them to eat. Alas, he couldn’t enjoy their walk to the restaurant or their meal: the thought of him needing to tell Yuuri everything continued to hang over his head like some kind of threat. But as they got into their meal, he saw Yuuri’s eyes drop heavily a few times, caught the poorly stifled yawn and knew that the conversation would have to wait.

He called the waiter over and got the bill as Yuuri finished what was on his plate and then led him very gently out by the hand. His other arm held Makkachin who’d fallen asleep again.

When they went to sleep they took opposite sides of the bed, leaving a big empty gap between them. Victor insisted that Yuuri use the bathroom first, and, as a result, by the time he lay down on the bed Yuuri was already fast asleep.

Victor stared at Yuuri, mesmerized by the sight. The dim light from the bedside lamp fell over his face, making all the lines appear soft. There was a gentle smile on his face now. Victor wanted to reach out and touch him, but, instead, he turned over to face the other way and switched off the light.

Morning crept in past the curtains draped over the windows and gently touched their faces. Victor woke up. He opened his eyes and saw Yuuri. The man slept as peacefully as an angel.

Victor must’ve turned over in his sleep. He knew that he shouldn’t keep staring. He ought to turn back, or get up and start to get ready, but it was impossible to look away.

Soft, gentle, kind Yuuri slept next to him. The sweet ballet dancer lay on crisp white sheets, reminding Victor of all those times he’d seen him on stage, playing the role of the brave hero who prized honour above everything else.

One of Yuuri’s hands rested on the pillow between them. Victor let himself take it very delicately and closed his eyes again.

Yuuri gave a little sigh.

Victor opened his eyes and watched Yuuri wake up. As Yuuri’s eyes opened Victor thought, _I wish I could wake up every morning like this._

“Good morning, Victor.”

“Good morning, Yuuri.” He held on to Yuuri’s hand, unable to let go.

Yuuri returned the grip with a smile. “Do you want a morning hug?”

“Yes, please.”

It was like a dream – Yuuri with him for his birthday and then waking up side by side with him the next morning. They held on to each other under the blankets and Victor drank the moment in, enjoying every second. It was a beautiful moment and one he often replayed in his head afterwards.

When they went down to have breakfast it was like the continuation of a dream.

And then, as he was pouring himself a second cup of tea, Victor saw one of the other skaters come down to have breakfast and he remembered what he was supposed to do. He’d delayed long enough. It was time he told Yuuri the truth.

He returned to their table with his cup of tea, but all his desire to drink it was gone.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked. Makkachin lay on his lap, watching both of them with interest.

“There’s… there’s something I need to tell you.” He swallowed nervously. “I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while. I should’ve told you a long time ago, but the time never seemed right. No,” he stopped himself and forced the truth out, “I was scared of telling you.”

Now Yuuri looked terrified. “Are you ok?” he whispered and put a hand over Victor’s.

He nodded. “It’s just that I… I never told you what it is that I do.”

“Oh.” Yuuri visibly relaxed. He even smiled. “I’m listening.”

 _You never asked._ He forced the words back. They sounded like an accusation and he didn’t want to blame Yuuri for his own fear of admitting the truth. The thing is: I couldn’t come up with a good way to say it. Um.” He took a deep breath. “I’m a figure skater. That’s why I’m here in Krasnoyarsk – I’m competing in the Nationals.”

“That’s wonderful, Victor!” The smile on Yuuri’s face got much, much bigger. “Can I… come watch you compete?”

He nodded. He didn’t know how to say “I’m the best figure skater in the world”, but maybe he didn’t need to.

“I’ll come cheer for you with Makkachin,” Yuuri promised. Then he realized what he’d just said. “Will they let him in, do you think?”

“I don’t know…” The relief he felt was like a knot untying in his stomach. He raised his cup of tea to his lips. He’d finally done it. He’d told Yuuri the truth. He gave a long sigh and checked the time on his phone. “I have practice scheduled in an hour for three hours and then we can go have lunch, if you want?”

Yuuri nodded. “Can I come watch you practice?”

“Unfortunately, not,” Victor told him. “It’s going to be coaches and pupils only. Usually they…” He trailed off as he saw the disappointment on Yuuri’s face and felt it echo in his own heart.

He realized then that he _wanted_ Yuuri to come watch him practice. He’d never skated for anyone else before, not for his parents, or for his coach. All of his skating had been for him (and for the audience, but they were more of an abstract concept, really), but now he could actually skate for _someone else_ and the feeling was incredible.

“I’ll get you tickets for the free skate segment.” He stopped, remembering that Yuuri was a ballet dancer. “How much do you know about figure skating?”

“A little,” Yuuri answered and gave a nervous cough. “But I’d love to hear you explain it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Yuuri nodded emphatically. “But… um… I don’t want to make you late for practice.”

Victor got up. “I’ll tell you on the way. Stop me if I repeat something you already know.

And he talked. He talked the whole way up to their room and then back down and on their way to the arena. Yuuri listened to every word he said, not stopping him even once. Victor felt as if he was giving a big chunk of his soul away and, contrary to his expectations, it felt amazing.

Yuuri listened to Victor explain figure skating to him. He watched Victor’s eyes light up brighter than ever and a smile lift the corners of his mouth. He watched Victor start to gesticulate – a thing he’d never done before – explaining what couldn’t be explained using words with gestures. He listened to the words Victor used, bordering on poetry and he felt a little stinging in his heart.

It was all so charming and fascinating to watch, but he also knew then how much Victor really _loved_ figure skating. This was why he kept going, not all those medals he kept in a closet, or the fame that had given him nothing good. It was the joy of going out onto the ice and creating something new.

_I don’t know if I feel the same way about ballet, but now I feel like I should, like if I don’t feel the same way about ballet, then why am I not doing something else?_

He let Victor talk until the last possible second and then, when they said goodbye to each other, made Victor promise to continue his explanation after practice.

Victor disappeared into the arena and the world became empty. Yuuri noticed how bleak and quiet the day was. There was barely anyone out in the streets.

Yuuri wandered aimlessly, carrying Makkachin in his arms and waiting for time to pass faster. He stumbled into a mall and went inside to shelter from the cold. Victor had forgotten to give him a key for their hotel room and Yuuri hadn’t realized it until now.

Three hours passed very slowly and he returned to the arena early, unable to stay away for too long. Why did he feel this way now? He’d been perfectly capable of coping with their separations before, hadn’t he? Or had he always felt this empty away from Victor?

 _It’s because I don’t know what to do with myself,_ he decided. _Usually I have practice, or a performance to go to, but there’s nothing for me to do here._

It sounded reasonable enough, but it didn’t explain why he ran as soon as he saw Victor, or why his heart beat so fast when they were reunited at last.

“I missed you,” he said, clutching Victor close as Makkachin licked Victor’s face.

“Sorry I was away for so long,” Victor apologized and Yuuri tried to find a way to convince him that he didn’t need to apologize, that it wasn’t Victor’s fault.

The day was warm and pleasant after that. He listened to Victor talk about figure skating again as they looked for somewhere to have lunch.

 _I could do this forever,_ Yuuri thought. _I could spend all eternity listening to you talk as we walk somewhere and it doesn’t even matter where we are, or where we’re going._

Something about Victor was different. It took Yakov a few minutes to figure out what it was and when he did he felt a pang of embarrassment that he didn’t spot it right away. For the second time Yakov could remember it Victor was smiling. He kept throwing worried glances at the audience, as if looking for someone and then he’d smile and give a little wave. The crowd, convinced that he was waving at everyone, responded with cheers and waves of its own.

Yakov tried to be happy. His lonely pupil was possibly flirting with someone he’d found, or maybe just flirting with the audience. Whatever it was, it made him happy and was relatively harmless.

Relatively.

Not if it started messing with his concentration. Not if his pupil went out on the ice in a competition that was easily his and made dozens of beginners’ mistakes all because his head was up in the clouds.

“Victor?” Yakov called.

He turned to face his coach and Yakov felt all his determination to lecture his pupil drain out of him. How could he break a happiness like that?

It was fine, Yakov told himself. He started mentally calculating how many points Victor would lose if he fell and stopped himself. Maybe Victor would pull through anyway. He had to hope for that. He had to keep telling himself that Victor hadn’t broken down yet. Sure, he still had no equal out on the ice, but that didn’t mean that he was about to self-destruct.

Everything was fine.

“Yakov?” Victor asked.

He had to go on as if everything was normal. And that meant that if normally he would lecture Victor for spacing out, he had to lecture him now. “Focus, Victor! Do I need to remind you that you’re about to compete?”

“No, you don’t need to remind me,” Victor said in a voice that shook. He was nervous. Why in the name of everything that was good was he nervous _now_?

Yakov took a deep breath to calm himself down. “Think about the skate. Leave all the other thoughts for later.”

Victor threw one last glance in the audience’s direction and turned to face the ice. Yakov couldn’t see his face now and this worried him. What was he thinking? Why was he so nervous?

“Next on the ice…”

“Go! Show me a good tango!” Yakov barked.

His own outburst caught him off guard, but Victor skated away as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

The tango that followed was slow and careful. Yakov kept his expression as neutral as possible. His pupil always failed to grasp the true passion behind tango. He knew it was his own fault as his coach, but nothing he said got the message across. Victor needed to experience true passion for himself to get it.

Still, it was a clean skate and worth more points than the routines from the other skaters. But Yakov knew that this wasn’t good enough.

Victor needed a rival. He needed someone to push him harder, so he would try new things and challenge what could be done.

He said none of this to his pupil, of course. He applauded politely along with everyone else and sat at his side when the marks were handed out. Like before, Victor didn’t get as much as he could’ve for the presentation score, but the technical score was incredibly high.

The audience applauded what they knew would happen without a great show of enthusiasm and Victor got his gold medal.

He won, of course, but Yakov felt – once again – as if the win had really been a loss in disguise.

Victor was impatient to see Yuuri. They’d arranged to meet when the competition was over and, for some reason, the medal awarding ceremony seemed to take longer than ever that day. Did they really need to give so many speeches? And did they really need to be that long?

As soon as he was free, Victor rushed outside to the meeting point he’d agreed on with Yuuri. He hadn’t said anything about backstage access, or the press and, thankfully, he hadn’t needed to – Yuuri suggested they reunite somewhere out of sight of everyone else himself.

As Victor weaved through the crowd it occurred to him that the day had been full of worries he’d never had before – where to leave his dog while he competed, would he get a ticket for his friend to watch him compete, where would he meet with his friend afterwards – they all represented the good kind of worrying. It was the kind of worrying he actually wanted in his life. And they were all Yuuri’s gift to him.

He spotted Yuuri just before Yuuri spotted him and then Yuuri ran, dodging and weaving past people as they walked on, oblivious to the two people running towards each other.

Yuuri caught Victor in a huge hug and exclaimed, “That was _amazing_! Incredible! That was so… so wonderful! I hardly dared breathe while you skated! I…”

He went on and Victor drank every word in thirstily. He couldn’t remember anyone ever praising him like this. He was always aware of Yakov’s faint air of dissatisfaction, even when the old coach managed something resembling praise, but it had never been quite like this. Yuuri went on, until he ran out of breath and when they pulled apart Victor saw the excitement lighting up Yuuri’s eyes.

_Is this really all just for me?_

“It was … beautiful,” Yuuri whispered, his face coming so close Victor could feel his breath on his cheek.

“Yuuri, will you come to all my competitions with me?” he asked. The question caught him by surprise, but it had come straight from the heart.

Yuuri stared into his eyes for what felt like an eternity. Victor couldn’t shake the feeling that he could see all the way into his soul. The thought made his skin tingle and something warm spread in his chest.

Yuuri raised a hand and brushed Victor’s hair off to one side. “I’ll be happy to!”


	7. New Year's Eve

To Yuuri, December 31 felt like two days joined into one, like two very different people stuck wearing one shirt. The feeling got so strong that late into the night, when it was technically January 1st, he was convinced that the morning had happened not a dozen hours, but a few days earlier.

The morning started on a very good note: he woke up in Victor’s spare bedroom to the smell of breakfast and turned over with a big smile on his face.

He’d dreamt of Victor again. Over the past few nights he hardly ever dreamt of anyone or anything else. Sometimes he dreamt about going on walks with Victor, or eating food, but they were never regular walks, or regular eating. If they were out walking, they were both naked for no reason at all and if they were eating, the food tended to come in suggestive shapes and often Yuuri was the one who would sit and watch Victor eat. And then there were the dreams when they lay in bed, wearing nothing and watching each other sleep.

Yuuri sat up and blushed, remembering the details of last night’s dream.

_Victor stood at the stove with his back to Yuuri. There was a cartoonish white chef’s hat on his head and… His back was bare. His buttocks were there for the world (and Yuuri) to see and his legs weren’t covered by anything either. He was probably wearing slippers though, but Yuuri didn’t bother to check. He stared fixedly at one point, wondering how to get Victor to turn around. And then he noticed the pink apron strings tied around Victor’s waist and the strap around his neck._

He’s in an apron. _The thought was very disappointing, for some reason._ But, _Yuuri reasoned in that special logic that only works in dreams,_ he _is_ cooking, so it’s a good idea to cover up, just in case.

_Victor turned around, but Yuuri didn’t know what was the expression on his face, nor did he care: it turned out that Victor’s apron only covered him down to his stomach. “Are you hungry, Yuuri?”_

In the land of the awake Yuuri covered his face. “Yes,” he answered a little late and then ran to the bathroom, desperate for a cold shower.

For Victor all of the 31st (and part of January 1st) was the best kind of fairy tale (although, not one that should appear in any children’s book).

He ate breakfast with Yuuri, his mind filling the kitchen with sunlight instead of the yellow electric light. Once they were done, they walked Makkachin, who was curious about every single object he passed and tried to make friends with everyone they met.

They took a taxi to the orphanage to introduce Makkachin to the kids. The introduction went perfectly, as if they had all been following a script. When, at last, the excitement over a puppy in their midst died down a little, Victor announced,

“As you all know, Yuuri is a ballet dancer. He and a group of dancers he performs with put on a special morning show for all of you.” He waited for the kids to rejoice at this, but they merely blinked at him, waiting for more. “So… we’re going to go see them in the Theatre right now!”

This met with the reaction he’d hoped for. They cheered, filling the air with laughter and shouting. “Yay!” a second sound wave rippled through the room. “Yay!”

Victor grinned at them, feeling encouraged by such a reaction. “And, if this trip goes well and you all enjoy it, we’ll go somewhere else next time! Who wants to go to the zoo?”

“Me! Me! Me!” Most of the kids were up on their feet now, excited by this idea. “A zoo!” they were exclaiming to each other. “A _zoo_!”

Tolya, who stood right in front of Victor, got especially excited by this promise. “We’ll get to see zebras, and bears, and giraffes, and elephants, and fishes! I want to see them all!”

Victor could see that the promise of a visit to the zoo excited them much more than the thought of their trip to see a ballet performance. “Alright.”

Everyone went silent.

“Please promise me that we’re all going to be on our best behaviour today?”

“Promise!” they all chorused as one.

“Um… Victor!” a voice called and a hand went up in the middle of the crowd.

He recognized the voice with ease. “What is it, Tanya?”

“Um…” She stood up and joined her hands with a sad look on her face. “Can Makkachin come with us?”

Victor met Yuuri’s eye and saw him give a slight shake of his head. “Sadly not, but Pavel Ivanovich will look after him.”

“Also…” she began and hesitated. She looked around at all the faces watching her. “Will Santa still come and visit us today?” she blurted out.

“Yes, of course! When we come back, he’ll come with your presents, you’ll see! Santa wouldn’t forget about all of you!”

The “hooray!” he got in response to that almost shook the building.

It took some effort to calm everyone down after that and make sure that everyone got dressed for going out. Just going through the security gates was like a little adventure for the children. And then the children had to be divided up among the buses Victor had rented for the trip. He and Yuuri picked the first bus in the lineup while the rest of the staff spread themselves out among the other buses.

The bus they’d picked filled with excited screams. Victor felt the kids’ joy turn into his own. Everything was so exciting and new. As the bus pulled out of the drive and onto the road, the children all broke out into applause, as if something amazing had just happened.

He wasn’t sure who had suggested it, but after a few minutes on the road, the kids began to sing.

Victor grinned at Yuuri, who sat beside him in the front row. “Do you know this song?”

“What?”

He leaned close, almost touching Yuuri’s ear as he shouted to be heard over the sound of 40 children’s voices singing just a little off from each other. “Do you know this song?”

Yuuri gazed into his face. They were still so close. Here Yuuri was – kind and sincere Yuuri – his whole soul bared and…

“I don’t, sorry,” he said.

Victor heard the words, but his brain didn’t process them. All he saw was the beautiful shape Yuuri’s mouth made as it formed the answer.

“Victor?”

He forced himself to turn away. He got up and turned around to face the rest of the bus. He didn’t know this song either, but that didn’t stop him from raising his arms and conducting the singing.

The children sang together now.

It was such a soothing sound: dozens of children’s voices singing almost in unison. He was almost sorry when they arrived and they had to stop.

“I’ll see you soon,” Yuuri promised, giving Victor a brief hug and disappearing into the Theatre to change and prepare to go out onto the stage.

Victor waited for all the buses to arrive, counted all the kids and then led them into the Theatre where they took up the front two rows of seats.

He counted all the children again and signalled the person standing on the stage that they were ready.

The lights dimmed.

“Hello everyone!” the person on the stage called out.

“Good morning!” the children chorused back in reply.

Their host smiled. “We don’t usually have a speaker for ballet performances,” he began, “but I thought I’d tell you a little about today’s special performance. We will show you short scenes from different ballets instead of playing a whole ballet for you. We are also pleased to have the orchestra here with us!”

Victor remembered Yuuri telling him that all the members of the orchestra had volunteered to play for free.

A drumroll broke the silence and the kids watched the conductor appear right in front of them. He beamed and waved at them.

Some of the children got up in their seats to get a better look at where he was standing and the taller ones were astonished to discover that there were all these grownups with instruments standing in a big hole in the ground!

Victor smiled as he listened to them voice their astonishment at this discovery.

The conductor turned his back to them, raised his arms and the orchestra launched into a melody.

A hush descended over the children as they settled down in their seats and looked at the stage expectantly.

Their host bowed and walked off the stage as behind him the curtain parted to reveal…

“It’s Yuuri! It’s Yuuri! Hi Yuuri!” several children exclaimed, pointing at the dancer on the stage.

“Shhh!” several voices hissed and the other children went silent.

Victor beamed like a proud parent.

On the stage, the Nutcracker and the Sugar Plum fairy danced the story of their love.

Victor watched the scenes change and the principal ballet dancers take turns to perform for the children. They re-enacted sad scenes and happy ones, transitioning seamlessly from one to the next. They got the kids to giggle a few times and when they all finished the children rewarded them with enthusiastic applause.

The curtains closed and opened again to reveal all the principal ballet dancers standing on the stage to take their bows. They went up individually and it surprised no one that Yuuri got the loudest and longest applause.

The curtain closed and they went outside to wait for Yuuri to join them and this time the bus ride was spent discussing the performance.

“And then he jumped really high and turned around! How did he do that?”

“They have so many instruments! Did you hear the tinkle-tinkle-tinkle? I want to learn how to play that!”

Yuuri exchanged a smile with Victor. “I’m so glad they liked it,” he whispered and put his hand on Victor’s arm.

“Of course they liked it! How could they not?”

Yuuri leaned closer, the bus hit a bump in the road and Victor was tossed towards him. For several seconds, their faces touched and then they were thrown apart. Victor’s heart skipped a beat. He stared into Yuuri’s face and watched him blush.

The day was decidedly some kind of dream.

When they got back, the children headed for the cafeteria to have lunch. Victor asked Yuuri to follow him into the kitchens, filled with a sudden need for a few minutes alone with Yuuri.

Yuuri raised those clear and innocent eyes of his to meet Victor’s own. “What is it?” he asked softly.

“Thank you.” He clutched Yuuri close.

They released each other and Victor couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d done something wrong, but he couldn’t seem to figure out just what it was. “Let’s go back?” he offered as he continued to puzzle over the feeling of wrongness in the back of his mind.

Yuuri nodded and led him by the hand back into the cafeteria.

He wanted to share everything with Yuuri. There were no words fit to describe his joy when they sat facing each other at a table full of children and ate lunch with them all.

This was what he wanted to come back to time and again. Was this what other people meant when they talked about home?

He rested his chin in his hand and watched Yuuri with a fond smile on his face.

After lunch, the kids all gathered in the library and called Santa’s name.

Several years ago, when his parents had first opened the orphanage, he’d had the idea of hiring an actor to come and play Santa Claus. He knew without trying that children are clever and would know if he tried to pretend to be Santa Claus himself. He’d held auditions for the role, telling everyone who applied that they would be expected to come every year, that they would be provided with the presents they had to hand out and that they would have to make it look as if they knew all the children’s names.

He’d been proud of his choice. The actor was extremely convincing. As far as Victor could tell – beneath that costume was a very kind elderly man who genuinely loved children. Maybe he even learned some of their names over the years. He certainly did a very convincing job of recognizing each and every one of them.

After every child got a chance to do something for Santa – be it reciting a poem, dancing, singing or playing an instrument – it was Victor’s turn. Like last time, he’d forgotten to memorize a poem and, like last time, Santa cautioned him to do better next year before handing his present over anyway. Because some things were traditional.

“My last present is for Yuuri Katsuki,” Santa said.

Yuuri gave Victor a surprised look and stepped up to Santa Claus. “Thank you,” he stammered out.

“Will you recite a poem for me, Yuuri?” Santa asked.

“I can dance for you,” Yuuri volunteered.

He waited for Santa’s approval before removing his shoes and getting into position. He stood straight with his heels together and his toes apart. His arms were lowered and bent in an arch with the fingers on each hand carefully arranged. He raised his arms, then lowered them. Then he raised one and turned his head. The other one came up next. There was something doll-like in his movements and Victor stared, remembering the music box in his mother’s room. Yuuri was beautiful like a work of art. Yuuri rose on his toes to gasps from the children, moving slowly until he got to his tiptoes and then lowered himself back down again.

“How was that, Santa?” he asked. There was a subtle change to his expression and he became himself again.

“Bravo!” Santa exclaimed, clapping.

“Bravo!” the children repeated, delighted by this new word.

“You have earned your present.” Santa held it out and Yuuri took it.

“Thank you,” he said, meeting Victor’s eye.

Victor watched anxiously as Yuuri ripped the paper off to reveal a set of pots and pans. He’d spent a long time agonizing over this gift, unable to figure out what Yuuri really wanted. In the end, he remembered how small and empty Yuuri’s apartment was and settled for kitchenware. He’d hated himself for how unoriginal this present was.

“Thank you.” Water glistened in Yuuri’s eyes and Victor felt his heart tremble. His gift had made the man cry!

Yuuri set it aside very carefully and walked over to the Christmas tree they’d all covered in decorations they’d made. He picked up a small box that was beautifully wrapped from where it lay under the tree and carried it over to Victor. “This is for you.”

“For me?” Victor stared at the present in surprise. “You didn’t need to…” he murmured.

“I did,” Yuuri insisted. He stepped closer to Victor and whispered, “You can’t just buy yourself presents every year.”

Victor didn’t know what to say to that. He stared down at the little package. He’d already given Victor so much. He didn’t need to get him more. All that had been enough, more than enough. His hands trembled as they slid over the wrapping paper. He didn’t want to ruin this.

“Will you open it?” Yuuri asked in a low voice. One of his hands rested ever so lightly on Victor’s arm.

“I will,” he decided and opened it as carefully as he could.

The box had a little card inside and Victor read it, unable to believe his eyes. Yuuri had given him a ticket for every ballet performance for the next five years.

“When you got me the ticket for Nationals, it got me thinking,” Yuuri admitted, “why should you have to buy every ticket? So I talked to our director and here’s the result!”

Victor turned his head to face Yuuri. For a moment, he forgot where he was and what he was doing. Here was Yuuri at his side, so close, so…

A melody began to play in his pocket and he realized with a start that this meant that his phone was ringing.

Yuuri stepped away and Victor felt as if a vast distance spread out between them.

He pulled the phone out of his pocket without thinking and saw the caller’s name light up on the screen: Christophe Giacometti.

He’d given Chris his number after the GPF and they’d exchanged a few messages, but somehow the fact had managed to slip from his mind.

Yuuri was watching him with those beautiful eyes of his widened in surprise.

“Hello,” Victor said, raising the phone to his ear. He was no good at phone calls and this was the first time Chris had actually called him.

“Hey, Victor! I have an emergency. So sorry to call you out of the blue like this, but I need a really big favour,” Chris somehow managed to sound as if he was continuing a conversation they’d had before.

Victor panicked. “Are you alright? Did something happen to you? Did you get hurt?” the questions were coming fast. He was asking them faster than anyone could hope to answer them, he knew, but he just couldn’t help himself.

Chris laughed. “I’m alright, just a little lost. Do you think you can come get me?”

“Get you?” he repeated, convinced he’d misheard.

“Yep. I’m standing on a bridge with big statues of men with horses. I hope you’ve only got one in this city because I don’t know how else to describe where I am.” For someone who was lost Chris sounded very relaxed.

“What happened?” Yuuri whispered into Victor’s ear.

“I know where that is,” Victor assured Chris. “I can’t come get you right now. I’m… I’m on the outskirts of the city.”

“Alright,” Chris accepted. “In that case, I’ll look for a café nearby and wait for you there. I’ll text you which it is once I decide.”

“Ok. Goodbye – um see you soon.”

“You bet!” Chris replied with a laugh and hung up.

Victor saw the expression of curiosity on Yuuri’s face and tried to smile. “It’s Chris. He’s a… friend. He’s a figure skater too.” Yuuri’s face became impossible to read so Victor didn’t even try to guess what he thought of all this. “He’s in St. Petersburg. He’s actually from somewhere in Switzerland, but he came all the way here.”

“He came all this way?” Yuuri repeated. “Why?”

Victor opened his mouth to answer and closed it again. It was a very good question. Why _had_ Chris come all this way?

He saw Yuuri break out into a half-smile. “Maybe he’s here for the same reason I went to Krasnoyarsk – to see you.” There was an odd edge to his tone now, but Victor didn’t understand it. Maybe he’d imagined it.

“Maybe,” he half-agreed.

Yuuri shot him a look as fast as lightning. Victor missed it and what it meant entirely.

“I promised to pick him up,” Victor admitted. “I can’t keep him waiting for long.” He gave a sigh. “I supposed it’s time to go. Your friends will be waiting for us to join them.”

Yuuri opened his mouth and closed it again with a little shake of the head, as if he’d been about to say something and changed his mind.

It was time to say goodbye to the children. The children showered both of their visitors with presents they’d made and followed them to the gates once more, demanding to know when Victor and Yuuri would come again and when they would all go to the zoo.

Victor answered as best as he could. He saw Yuuri move away from him and felt that pang of wrongness again. Suddenly his heart wasn’t in it anymore.

They’d arranged to meet up with Yuuri’s friends in the evening, but Victor felt his old anxieties resurface. He wanted to go home and spend the evening with Yuuri. They could watch TV and just celebrate together. Did they really need to meet and celebrate with the others?

But he’d promised. They’d put on a wonderful show for the children. It was only fair that he kept his word and celebrated with them.

But when the taxi took him and Yuuri back into St. Petersburg. Yuuri sat by the window and gazed out at the passing scenery. He didn’t take Victor’s hand and didn’t speak to him.

“I… um…” Victor broke the silence, at once desperate and terrified of it being over. “I think we should stop by my place. It’s not far from where Chris is. We can…”

Yuuri turned and met Victor’s eye.

“…come get him on foot.”

“I promised to meet with Phichit before the party,” Yuuri said in a voice so cold it could’ve been someone else’s entirely. “I can walk from your place.”

“And we can… leave our presents in my apartment,” Victor volunteered more for something to say.

Yuuri agreed, but there was that distance in his face, as if he was somewhere far beyond Victor’s reach.

He didn’t like saying goodbye to Yuuri afterwards and the promise to meet him in two hours at the club of the ballet dancers had picked for all of them didn’t make him feel any better about it all.

Yuuri was angry. It was a stupid, irrational anger, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. He was just too furious to think rationally.

He tried to calm himself down and to figure out why he was suddenly so furious, but all he knew was that he needed to be apart from Victor for a little bit to sort through his feelings.

When Phichit had texted him, asking to meet him before the party, Yuuri accepted gladly. And he was very glad for the short walk to Phichit’s apartment, which he used as his chance to clear his head.

Why was he so angry just because of Victor mentioning the other skater? Victor could be friends with other skaters, if he wanted to. That wasn’t a problem. In fact, the opposite had been a problem.

But he’d never mentioned Chris before, a voice in the back of Yuuri’s mind insisted. Who was this Chris? How long had he known Victor for? Why did he suddenly decide to drop into St. Petersburg like this?

To celebrate New Year’s with Victor, obviously.

Yuuri fumed, walking faster, bumping into passersby in the street and apologizing through his teeth.

Who did this Chris think he was?

He was still wound up when he reached Phichit’s building and rang his apartment.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” he said, then added, “Yuuri.”

“You’re here! Great! I’ll unlock the door for you,” Phichit promised and a faint buzzing sound followed those words.

Yuuri entered and stormed up the stairs.

He was so angry. So, so _angry_.

He needed to calm down. He didn’t want to take his fury out on Phichit. It wasn’t his fault. He had nothing to do with all this.

Phichit unlocked the front door and Yuuri entered the apartment, doing his best to think about something else.

He let his mind turn to the children, the kind and talented children from Victor’s orphanage. They deserved all the best. And Victor was working hard to give it all to them.

He couldn’t be angry with Victor, he knew that. Chris, whoever he was, was probably just a casual acquaintance, or Victor would’ve mentioned him earlier. Of course he was. There – problem solved.

Yuuri froze in front of Phichit’s door. _Why do I care who Chris is, or what Victor thinks of him? That’s Victor’s business, not mine._

That sorted out, he rang the doorbell.

Phichit opened almost right away and grinned at Yuuri. “Come on in.”

Yuuri stepped inside, wondering if Phichit had something planned, or if he just wanted to chat with Yuuri.

“Are you hungry?” Phichit asked, locking the door behind Yuuri.

Yuuri realized then that he was starving. He hesitated, not wanting to admit this, but something about his expression must’ve given him away because Phichit gave a little nod and said, “I was about to eat myself.”

Phichit’s apartment was small, but, unlike Yuuri’s, it had distinct rooms that all connected to each other in a way that meant that if you wanted to get to the kitchen, you had to go through two other rooms first, one of them a kind of living room and the other – a bathroom. Yuuri followed Phichit without commenting on this odd construction.

Phichit sat Yuuri down at the kitchen table, which had already been set for two.

Yuuri did his best to keep from panicking. All of this was suddenly much more intimate than he’d expected. What if Phichit had lied and he really _did_ want to sleep with Yuuri?

He kept throwing glances at Phichit as he ate, waiting for him to admit what he really wanted from Yuuri.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Phichit exclaimed after a while. “I didn’t invite you over to torture you.” He finished eating and got up to wash his plate.

Yuuri did his best to relax. “Sorry, I… I’m not in a very good mood right now. Maybe this party was a bad idea.” He sighed. Then he got up and tried to wash his dishes after himself, but Phichit barred his way.

“You don’t need to worry about those. You’re my guest. Sit back down,” Phichit ordered. “I’ll just finish with these and then we can talk.”

There was no way that Yuuri could argue with him, so he returned to his chair instead. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately: just accepting what Phichit told him to do without argument.

He turned this thought round and round in his mind, as if enjoying how much pain it caused him every time.

The sound of rushing water stopped and Phichit slid back into his chair. “So…” he began and placed his chin in his hand. “What are you going to wear to the party?”

The question was so far removed from everything Yuuri had been thinking about up until that point that it caught him completely off guard. “What… what am I going to wear?” he repeated and winced at himself. “I don’t know. What I’m wearing now, I suppose.”

“That’s what I was afraid you would say,” Phichit told him and rose from his seat. “Come with me. I have a much better idea.”

“It’s fine. Really,” Yuuri tried to protest. He was starting to get tired of just doing what others told him to do. “What does it matter what I wear?”

“What does it _matter_?” Phichit repeated in disbelief. “Don’t you want to look good for Victor?”

Yuuri opened his mouth to insist that he and Victor were just friends, that it didn’t matter what Victor thought of his appearance and that, actually, he’d decided he’d rather not go at all, but the truth rose up, ignored all the instructions from his brain and spilled out, “Yes.”

He stared straight at Phichit, trying his hardest not to blush.

“Then come with me and wear what I give you,” Phichit said simply and stepped out of the kitchen, through what looked like a storage closet and into his bedroom.

Yuuri followed, led both by his sudden determination and by a strong sense of curiosity.

Phichit opened his closet and pushed most of his clothes off to one side. “I just hope it fits.”

That was when Yuuri realized that he was terrified of what Phichit was about to give him.

Victor was flattered that Chris had come all this way for him, he really was, but as they sat in the café and Chris told Victor about his flight here Victor found his thoughts returning to Yuuri as he wondered again and again why the man had been so upset.

He chided himself for not paying more attention to his friend, but he couldn’t help it: his mind was just elsewhere.

“Victor? Earth calling Victor?” Chris said in a tone that was only half-serious.

He forced his thoughts back to the present. “Huh? What?”

There was a worried expression on Chris’ face. “Are you alright?” he asked. “You look as if they just told you that you’re banned from competing.”

Victor sighed. “It’s nothing,” he insisted, in a level voice and stared out the window.

The universe chose that moment to send him a sign: a couple walked by arm-in-arm, throwing loving glances at each other. They stopped just outside their window and exchanged a long and passionate kiss.

Victor looked away.

“People certainly have not qualms about where they make out, do they?” Chris commented and laughed. Victor could feel him studying his face and fidgeted. “What’s wrong? You haven’t convinced me that you’re find, so why not just come clean about it? Maybe I can help you?”

“I doubt it,” Victor said and realized too late that he was being rude. Chris was just being friendly. He’d come all this way to – actually why _had_ he come all this way?

“Why did you decide to come to St. Petersburg?” Victor asked and wondered too late if he should’ve tried to find the answer in a less direct way.

Chris laughed. “Because I thought I’d come and celebrate New Year’s with you, of course! We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” Victor answered without thinking. Great. He appreciated the gesture (or, at least, tried to tell himself that he did), but he’d already made plans and he preferred those plans to…

He just wanted to spend the evening with Yuuri and no one else, but he couldn’t say that to Chris, not after he’d come all this way to see him. Victor groaned and lowered his head onto his hands.

“Boy trouble?” Chris guessed.

Victor made an incoherent sound. How did Chris know? Was it that obvious?

“Do you want my advice?” Chris offered, apparently not realizing that the subject was paining Victor.

“No.”

“Just tell him how you feel,” Chris went on, ignoring Victor’s answer. “you won’t believe what I had to deal with just because I didn’t want to admit my feelings. Plus it saves a lot of confusion later on.”

“What?” Victor stared at Chris in mute confusion for several minutes as the meaning of his words sank in. “That has nothing – that won’t solve my problem.”

“Alright, what _is_ your problem, then?” Chris asked, edging closer.

That, Victor suddenly realized, was a very good question. “I think Yuuri is mad at me,” he began and stopped, unsure if he should elaborate or not.

“Yuuri?” Chris asked, raising his eyebrows. Then he broke into a smile. “Oh yes – the ballet dancer. How could I forget? And why is he mad at you?”

“I’m not sure.” He felt so stupid as he said it. How could he have made someone angry without even knowing _how_ he’d done it?

“Hmm… Well, it’s certainly not a lot to go on,” Chris remarked.

“Sorry,” Victor apologized, lowering his head. Chris was trying to help, while Victor’s attitude was probably coming across as really difficult.

“No need to apologize,” Chris brushed it all aside as if it was nothing. “I’m sure I can figure it out given enough time. Tell me about Yuuri. You barely told me anything last time. Does he get mad often?”

“N-no. He’s never gotten mad at me before,” Victor countered. “He’s the kindest person in the world!”

“Even kind people can get angry,” Chris told him with a serious expression on his face. “Sounds like you might’ve done something really terrible.”

Victor felt panic rise in his chest. “You mean he’ll never forgive me for this?”

What had he done? He tried to think. Yuuri had been happy during the present exchange, he was sure of it. Had he been happy after that? It was a little hard for him to recall the exact sequence of events. They’d said goodbye to the kids and taken the taxi back like always. He’d been quiet in the car and he hadn’t taken Victor’s hand, Victor could remember that very clearly. But when had it started? He just couldn’t remember.

“Oh, I don’t think he’ll _never_ forgive you, but you’ll have to find a way to make up for it to him. Hmm… Maybe it was something you said?” Chris prompted.

“It must’ve been, but what did I say?” Victor was starting to sound desperate and he knew it. “We gave each other presents and I said thank you, but… I don’t remember doing anything after that, which was any different from anything we’d done before.”

Chris looked thoughtful. “Maybe it was your present that made him angry?”

“No, no, I’m sure it wasn’t!” What if it was? How sure was he?

“Well, I’m out of ideas,” Chris admitted with a shrug. “Why not just ask him about it directly? Are you going to see him tonight?”

Tonight. “Yes, his friends arranged a party for –” Victor interrupted himself, remembering who he was talking to. “And I’m sure you can come with us!”

“Are you sure?” Chris gave him a skeptical look. “Won’t Yuuri get the wrong idea, if you come with me to the party?”

What wrong idea could Yuuri get? He’d already told Yuuri he was meeting up with Chris. It would’ve been wrong not to invite him to come celebrate with all of them. “What wrong idea?” Victor asked, all innocence.

“When you ask me like that, it makes me wonder if I should bother explaining,” Chris said with a half-smile. He considered this for a few minutes. “I think I’ll leave this conversation for another time. I’m just dying to meet this Yuuri,” he admitted. “And I’m worried that if I explain, you might change your mind about letting me come along.”

“But you’re in St. Petersburg all by yourself, right?” Victor asked and felt a little foolish. What if Chris wasn’t and he _did_ have other plans? Had he mentioned other plans? His head was so full of thoughts about Yuuri that he couldn’t remember anything Chris had told him about himself.

“I am,” Chris confirmed, “so the invitation is doubly appreciated.”

At least that was sorted out. Victor sighed. If only this… misunderstanding with Yuuri could be cleared up as easily!

“Chin up,” Chris told him. “I promise to sort it out for you before the night is over. So… what _is_ this Yuuri like?” His tone suggested that there was another meaning hidden behind his words, but Victor failed to figure out what that was. At times, speaking to Chris was a lot like speaking to someone who replied in another language.

“Yuuri is…” he hesitated, looking for words other than “kind”. How ought he describe Yuuri? It was then that he realized that he hadn’t told anyone but Chris about Yuuri. But then – who was there for him to tell? His parents were always busy and Yakov would probably just get angry with him for wasting his time. “…he’s very talented.” No, that was the wrong word.

Chris chuckled. “Ah… _talented_ , I see.”

“He’s very, very good at ballet,” Victor explained.

For some reason, at the sound of those words, the expression on Chris’ face became serious. “Ah.”

“He’s very caring,” Victor went on. “He looks after me.” Victor had to stop there because he was suddenly terrified of continuing and letting slip much more than he meant to say.

Chris was lost in thought, digesting Victor’s word. “I admit that I now have this mental image of a ballet dancer who adopts orphans and does a lot of charity work, including taking care of stray dogs and cats.” He grinned as he said the words, as if something about them was very funny.

It certainly all fit. “That’s Yuuri,” Victor confirmed with a serious nod.

“Oh.” Chris leaned back in his chair. “I always have to be careful around people like that. I have a tendency to exaggerate things for a laugh and, I never mean to offend anyone, but sometimes I upset them. Usually it’s my morbid jokes that do the trick.”

Victor waited for Chris to say something he understood and could respond to.

“Did you make a comment about politics?” Chris asked. “That one is bound to upset lots of people.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” Victor admitted. He didn’t dare add that his knowledge was so limited that he wasn’t sure who the president of Russia was.

“Alright, I have no idea what you did, but I’ll patch things up!” Chris promised and rose from his seat. “Let’s go to this party of yours and confront St. Yuuri!”

Victor got up as well, wondering when he ought to point out that they had another hour before the time they’d agreed on.

Chris and Victor took the metro to get to the party. As Victor understood it, one of the ballet dancers who performed with Yuuri had picked out a club as the venue for their party. Chris listened to Victor explain it in a voice that said all too plainly that if it had been up to him or Yuuri, they would’ve picked a completely different place.

From what Chris had heard and seen so far, he suspected that if it had been up to Victor or this Yuuri, they would’ve celebrated in a library. Not that Chris had anything against libraries. They were simply not at the top of his list of party venues.

Yuuri’s anger lay heavily on Victor’s mind. The way Victor talked about him, the ballet dancer ought to be canonized as a saint any day now. He sounded sincere, which meant that either it was true, or Victor was seeing something different from what was actually there. Chris’ experience with ballet dancers was very limited, but it seemed to him that it probably _was_ true.

By the time they reached the club, Chris had a fully-formed mental image of a goody-two shoes, a boring person who always did the right thing and didn’t know the meaning of the word fun and dressed in a way that matched this description perfectly.

He glanced at Victor. Maybe that was what Victor liked. Chris hadn’t figured him out just yet, so how would he know?

The club was like any other club Chris had been to. A bouncer stood at the door and checked everyone’s id. Loud music blared from the speakers as special lighting made everyone look as if they were wearing bright neon colours. A bar stretched against the wall on one end. It was run by a man who seemed to be all too happy to serve everyone drinks.

Chris’ eye got to the bar and stayed there. Two handsome men leaned against the bar. One of them was in gold pants and a top that seemed to be made of nothing but sequins. He glittered brightly enough to blind anyone who dared to look at him for too long. He was drawing a lot of attention to himself. His friend, however, was equally interesting if not even more so. He had an amazing figure and was dressed in the best way to show it off – a tight black tank top that left his arms and stomach bare, along with a pair of dark blue leather pants.

“Wow!” Victor exclaimed next to Chris, voicing his thoughts.

“Agreed.” _Forget Yuuri, Victor, look at that man!_ He risked taking his eyes off the two figures at the bar to see the expression on Victor’s face.

He was blushing. “I never… I didn’t… Yuuri…” he mumbled.

Chris returned to observing the man in the tank top. How would he feel about a one-night stand?

The man chose that moment to turn around and catch their eye. He called out something, but it got drowned out by the music.

“Do you know him?” Chris asked Victor. _Can you introduce me?_

“Of course! That’s Yuuri.”

“ _That’s_ Yuuri?” Chris exclaimed in shock. He studied Yuuri again. “ _That’s_ Yuuri?” he repeated, unable to believe it. His mind was hastily deleting everything it thought it knew about the man and re-evaluating what he _did_ know. He had to stop himself from thinking anything else, afraid to let his thoughts stray in a territory that would go against his friendship with Victor completely.

Then he remembered about Victor and looked at him. The man looked lost, terrified and turned on all at once. It was obvious to anyone who bothered to look that Victor was lost in a new country without a map.

 _Oh dear,_ Chris thought. _Lucky for you that I’m here, then._

Victor was trembling now.

Chris patted him gently on the shoulder and the man leapt into the air.

“S-sorry…” Victor stammered out.

“What are you standing with me for? Go talk to him,” Chris exclaimed and gave Victor a light push in the right direction.

“G-go? I don’t think I can. Oh god!” Victor covered his face with his hands, but Chris noticed that he was careful enough to leave gaps between his fingers so that he could keep staring at Yuuri.

It took all of Chris’ self-control to keep from bursting out into laughter at this point. “Look, I know how this needs to go.”

“You do?” Chris was beginning to suspect that Victor was about to pass out.

 _Great. That’s the last thing we both need right now. Victor, I can’t have you pass out into my arms as your boyfriend watches us. Surely even you can see that!_ “Yes. Do you see what he’s wearing?”

Victor nodded. Of course he could see what Yuuri was wearing.

Chris forced himself to keep his eyes on Victor. “That’s a sign. He wants you to go over there and put your hand on where his back isn’t covered by anything.”

As if on cue, the barman called something out and Yuuri turned away to present the part of his back that wasn’t covered by anything, the one Chris was talking about and staring at right now, despite all his efforts not to.

“What? T-touch him? I- I can’t!” Victor protested.

“ _Victor_!” Chris exclaimed. “You need to go over there right now!” Chris pulled Victor in by the arm. “Here is what you’ll do…”

As he described to Victor what had to be done he tried to tell himself that, at least, he could be entertained by watching Victor try to flirt. That was bound to be hilarious, right? So why did he feel as if he as on the verge of tears?

Victor had texted Yuuri to say that he was bringing his friend along with him to the party, but still Yuuri had felt a sharp pain in his chest at the sight of the two men leaning close to each other and speaking in low voices.

He needed a strong drink to get through this night. That was why when the barman called for more orders he turned around and asked for a shot of vodka.

“I see you’re getting into the spirit!” Phichit exclaimed beside him with a happy grin that only irritated Yuuri more. “Barman! Make that two shots!”

Maybe he could pretend to go to the bathroom and just leave, Yuuri thought. He’d been so stupid to let Phichit dress him up like this. It wouldn’t help things, anyway. Victor wasn’t that kind of person.

The barman put a drink down in front of Yuuri and he downed it in one gulp.

There was a tingling sensation in his lower back and he began to wonder if the alcohol was already kicking in and then he realized that someone was pressing their hand gently to his back. He raised his eyes and two possibilities flashed through his mind in the space of a second: tell this stranger to leave him alone, or to go along with them anyway.

“Good evening.” That was Victor’s voice.

Yuuri felt the blood rise to his cheeks as he realized that it was _Victor’s_ hand on his back. “G – H-Hello.”

“You look beautiful,” Victor said. His face was wonderfully close to Yuuri’s. His eyes were taking Yuuri in from head to toe.

The tingling in Yuuri’s back got stronger: Victor slid his hand up a few centimetres.

“I… uh… I can take my hand off, if you want,” Victor offered.

Yuuri shifted a little closer. “Stay,” he whispered. He reached up with his hand. It hovered in the air as he considered where to put it before finally he lowered it onto Victor’s shoulder.

Victor stepped closer.

From an outside point of view, it probably looked like they were holding each other up, or, at least, that Victor was holding Yuuri up while Yuuri leaned against him, but Yuuri didn’t care what anyone else would think.

The music pounded in his ears and he knew _what_ he wanted. Yuuri pulled some change out of his pocket, paid for his drink and gave Victor a smile that made him tremble and leaned closer to say, “Dance with me.”

Victor nodded many times in response.

Yuuri lead Victor away, noticing that the man still kept his hand on Yuuri’s back, as if holding on to a lifeline. Yuuri’s heart was beating twice as fast as the music now.

They moved into the crowd of dancing bodies, stepping up close to each other.

Victor shouted something, but this close to the speakers Yuuri couldn’t hear him. Still it didn’t take him long to figure out what Victor had been trying to say: he didn’t know how he was supposed to dance.

Yuuri smiled and did his best to explain to Victor that it didn’t matter. All they had to do was move to the beat.

It was so packed out on the dancefloor that – through completely accident, of course – Yuuri let his hips touch Victor’s.

Victor coloured, but didn’t step away.

Feeling bolder, Yuuri stepped even closer. He pressed his cheek against Victor’s and both of them stopped dancing. Victor’s free arm circled around Yuuri and he brought their chests close enough to touch.

Around them the music pounded on, following that same dull, repetitive beat.

And then the music stopped. For a brief moment Yuuri thought he’d gone deaf, or that he and Victor had been transported somewhere else.

“Hello, everyone!” a voice bellowed through the speakers. “We only have a few seconds left to go before the New Year! Will you please join me for the final countdown?”

The air filled with excited cheers.

“Ready? Let’s go! And… eleven…”

“…ten…”

Yuuri spotted a couple making out two steps away from him. One of them had their hand up the other person’s shirt.

“…nine…”

He recognized the bright red hair and saw that it was Mila and Sara.

“…eight…”

His cheeks were warm and one of them was still pressed against Victor’s.

“…seven…”

Both of Victor’s hands were on his bare back now.

“…six…”

He wanted to kiss Victor.

“…five…”

He wanted Victor to kiss _him_.

“…four…”

He wanted more than just a kiss.

“…three…”

He wanted _Victor_.

“…two…”

But he didn’t dare say anything. He didn’t even dare move.

“…one!”

Victor pulled his face away and looked into Yuuri’s eyes as everyone exclaimed, “Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year, Yuuri!”

“Happy New Year, Victor.” Yuuri forced himself to smile. “Let’s keep dancing?”

The music exploded as soon as the words were out of his mouth, drowning out Victor’s response. He nodded even though Yuuri saw the “yes” formed by his lips.

Yuuri slipped out of Victor’s hold and circled him. He enjoyed the way Victor’s eyes followed him just as he…

Yuuri pressed his back against Victor’s.

Victor went very still.

The music pounded on, the lyrics all the same as before: want, give, want, give, want.

Yuuri slid his back down against Victor’s and then back up again. Then he turned to see Victor’s reaction.

 _Want_.

Victor turned as well, his mouth open in amazement. He swallowed and opened it again as if to speak, but Yuuri put a finger on Victor’s lips.

 _Don’t say anything, or my brain will wake up and tell me that this is all a bad idea,_ he thought.

Something hit his head then, making it spin and he grabbed the top of Victor’s shirt and pulled him close as he stepped back.

Victor raised his hands. He must’ve been aiming for Yuuri’s waist, but he missed and placed them on Yuuri’s hips instead.

In response, Yuuri pushed those hips against Victor.

Yuuri only knew how to dance classical ballet, but in that moment that fact became very irrelevant: he reached down deep inside and pulled out something. Usually that something only reared its head when he was in bed with someone else. Now it reared its head on the dancefloor.

The expression in Victor’s eyes was only egging him on.

Yuuri wrapped his arms around Victor’s neck as he continued to move against him. Maybe he would regret this in the morning, maybe not, but he needed this now.

Want, give, want, his mind demanded, repeating the music.

Yuuri pushed his chest against Victor’s body and fought the urge to start pulling the man’s clothes off. Instead, he let himself lean over the man’s ear and breathe loudly into it.

He pulled away and watched Victor blush as he raised one hand to his cheek. There was an expression of “lead and I will follow you to the ends of the world,” on his face now. Usually when Yuuri saw that look he led the way to the nearest bedroom (which, thankfully, was much closer than the end of the world).

He slipped one hand up Victor’s neck and into his hair and watched the man gasp.

Someone bumped into Yuuri then, interrupting his enjoyment of the moment.

“Get a room!”

He turned his head and recognized Phichit. The man winked at him and then indicated his dancing partner with a slight jolt of his head. Yuuri recognized Victor’s friend, Chris. Phichit winked a second time and led his partner away.

Yuuri felt his chest lighten, as if an invisible weight had been lifted from it and he realized then why he’d been so angry. He hadn’t been angry. He’d been jealous.

He met Victor’s eyes again.

Very jealous.

He still had one hand in Victor’s hair. He imagined pulling Victor’s head close and smashing their mouths together (and it would be smashing, judging by how on fire Yuuri felt in that moment).

 _Calm down,_ the small rational part of his brain said.

He blinked in surprise. He didn’t think that any part of him was still thinking rationally.

He moved his hips to the beat of the music and watched the way Victor stared. He pulled away, stepped back, caught Victor by both hands and pulled him towards the doors.

He _wasn’t_ going to be calm. He was going to do something mad and rash and regret it in the morning. He was going to get Victor out of breath, hot and sweating under the covers.

 _Are you drunk?_ the rational part of him asked.

 _No,_ he thought. _Not on alcohol, anyway._

They stopped to get their coats and helped each other into them before stepping out into the cold night.

A wind blew over the Neva River, through the streets and through Yuuri, suddenly waking him up to where he was and what he was about to do.

Victor took a long breath. “The sky is so clear!”

Yuuri blinked and stared at him, the spell well and truly broken now. “What?”

“Look at the Moon!” Victor exclaimed and leaned close.

There was no way he could take his eyes off Victor now. “Yes,” he said, noticing the glow in Victor’s eyes and the way the pale light made Victor’s face shine.

Victor sighed. “It’s so beautiful!”

Yuuri tore his gaze away from Victor’s face at last and looked. It really _was_ beautiful.

The moon was perfectly round. It emitted a very cold light that gave the snow on the ground a bluish glow. Something about the white disk made Yuuri feel at peace. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath.

“Why don’t you stay over tonight?” Victor offered. “I’ll make you a delicious breakfast in the morning, I promise.”

Yuuri met his eye with a smile. “That sounds wonderful!”

They held hands as they walked to Victor’s apartment. Yuuri felt so at peace now that Victor’s invitation, which normally would’ve messed with his thoughts, sounded completely innocent to his ears. Yes, he was at peace. Everything was as it should be and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone!


	8. Pastel Tones

Yuuri awoke to the smell of breakfast and his first thought was that this was what happiness smelled like. He turned over in his bed and smiled. The day was already perfect. He couldn’t wait for it to get even better.

But when he got up and made it into the kitchen the day did a strange thing and got both better and worse at the same time.

Victor stood at the stove as the air filled with delicious smells and Yuuri felt his heart flip over in his chest. He remembered a breakfast two years ago. He remembered standing at the fridge and trying to decide what to eat when a hand trailed down his back and a voice murmured into his ear, “No use looking there, beautiful, the most delicious thing in this house is right here.”

The words replayed in his head as he stared at Victor. The desire from last night returned in full force, hitting him hard and making his head spin.

 _No, no,_ he told himself. _I’m Victor’s_ friend. _Sleeping with him will only ruin things._

He must’ve made some sort of noise then because Victor turned around and rewarded him with a big smile. “Good morning!”

Yuuri felt something flip over in his chest. Was that his heart or his stomach? Why couldn’t he tell the difference? “Good morning!” He glanced at the clock. It was past 1 pm, but he wasn’t about to point that out to Victor.

“I made waffles,” Victor said. “Chris got me a waffle maker and I thought I’d try it out.”

At the sound of Chris’ name Yuuri felt a little pang in his heart. But it was only a little prick and he could easily ignore it. “Smells delicious,” Yuuri said and did his best to smile.

Victor was in a casual shirt and a pair of loose pants – a combination that usually didn’t look flattering on anybody, but, for some reason, he still managed to pull off the trick of looking beautiful.

Yuuri stared. Had he ever really thought about how beautiful Victor was? Had he?

Yuuri became very conscious of how messy he had to appear in Victor’s eyes. He was in a shirt that was several sizes too big for him and made him feel like he was wearing a bag. His hair was sticking up in every direction even though he’d brushed it many times before entering the kitchen.

What was worse was that Yuuri saw the way Victor looked at him now. It was that same innocent way he always looked at Yuuri. It was all politeness and friendliness, and was nothing like the way Victor had looked at him the night before.

 _It’s those clothes,_ Yuuri thought as he put a waffle on his plate and let Victor pour him a cup of hot tea. He still had the clothes Phichit had leant him. He’d meant to give them back the next day, but maybe he could hold on to them for a little longer? He could ask where Phichit had bought them and buy them too. He’d wear them again and…

Across the table Victor was looking at him in that innocent way of his.

No. He shouldn’t be doing this. He should let them go on as they were.

“Do you have practice today?” Victor asked.

“We’re allowed to take the first off,” Yuuri told him. “They used to tell us to come in, but after a few incidents with drunk dancers showing up to practice they decided to just let us have the first day off.”

“Then you won’t mind…” Victor began hesitantly. “…um… going for a walk with me?” He looked under the table. “And Makkachin.”

Yuuri followed Victor’s line of sight to where Makkachin lay rolled up into a ball at a point exactly between his and Victor’s feet.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea!” Yuuri agreed and then marvelled at his own enthusiasm.

The streets were empty with just one or two pedestrians here and there and a few cars. There was that feeling that the whole world was asleep, but stronger still was the sensation Yuuri always got as January first drew to a close – that the time to be happy and do mad things was over. He had to be rational and responsible.

Yuuri suppressed the urge to cry. He held Victor’s hand and tried to smile.

They followed a network of small streets without thinking about where they would end up and stumbled into a square where someone had set up a skating rink.

They stopped then as if they’d reached a dead end with no way of going back.

Yuuri threw a careful glance in Victor’s direction. Seeing that all the man’s attention was focused on the skating rink he allowed himself to study him a little longer.

There was a troubled expression on Victor’s face and Yuuri tried to imagine what kind of thoughts could possibly be going through his mind.

Victor stared at the skating rink, caught completely off guard by its sudden appearance before him.

He was the top figure skater in the world. He’d been to many different rinks in dozens of different countries. He’d faced terrible conditions out on the ice. He’d had to face judgement by the press and by figure skating fans (not to mention the actual panel of judges at each competition). He’d caught the last year of the old 6.0 points system. So why did the sight of a regular ice rink set up for families to go out and enjoy themselves fill him with so much fear and dread?

His mind took him back to Moscow, or rather, his last visit there. He remembered wandering the streets alone as crowds celebrated the coming of the New Year. He remembered stumbling into skating rinks everywhere he went, filled with happy families, kissing couples and so much laughter. It was as if the world had been mocking him, reminding him of what he did not have.

“What’s wrong?” a voice asked, bringing Victor back to the present.

Things were different now. He had Yuuri with him this time.

“Victor?”

He forced himself to turn and face Yuuri. He made an effort to look as if everything was alright. “Will you come skate with me, Yuuri?”

A look of relief appeared on Yuuri’s face and was soon replaced by an apologetic one. “I don’t know how to skate, Victor. Sorry.”

He turned to look back at the happy skaters. None of them had ever gone out on the ice for a competition, he was sure of it. But what did that matter? They were happy.

“One time I was in Moscow I stumbled into a public rink just like this one. I stood and watched for an hour, as if someone had frozen me in place.” He turned away with a sigh. “Since that day, it’s been my dream to go skating side by side with a good friend.” Actually he’d fantasized about skating with a boyfriend but he wasn’t about to admit that to Yuuri. He met Yuuri’s eye again and gave his hand a tight squeeze. “So it doesn’t matter to me if you’ve never skated before.”

For a while Yuuri was silent. Then he said in a low voice, “What about Makkachin?”

Victor realized with a pang of guilt that somehow he’d forgotten to consider what to do about Makkachin. “Maybe we can carry him?”

Yuuri didn’t look convinced and Victor couldn’t blame him: he wasn’t too convinced himself. But he’d work something out. He had to! He had to use this chance.

“Maybe we can go back and leave Makkachin at home,” Yuuri suggested, his voice betraying how much he didn’t like this idea himself.

Victor crouched down and picked him up. “Let’s try going out on the ice with him.”

Yuuri followed him to the rink without argument.

But as soon as they got to the entrance they were stopped by a guard. The skating rink was very definitely a no pets area.

Victor stood still, locked in uncertainty. If only he knew what he ought to do now! Asking nicely wouldn’t help, he was sure of it.

“You’re…” the guard frowned at him. “You’re not _him_ , are you? You look just like him!”

Victor’s heart fell. He hated running into fans. He never knew what he ought to say to them and he’d spent most of his life terrified of what they might say to _him_. He could still remembering meeting Evgeni when he himself had been ten years old and exclaiming (more to his own surprise than anyone else’s) that he was Victor’s biggest source of inspiration.

His embarrassment must’ve made itself known somehow because Yuuri stepped in between them. “We really want to go skating,” he said politely, but firmly. “Is there someone here we could trust to look after our dog? It will only be for a little while. An hour at most and… I’ll pay them for the trouble.”

This last part caught Victor completely off guard. “What? No! No! Makkachin is my dog! I should be the one paying for –”

“Do you need someone to look after your dog?” a new voice cut in.

A small woman with a large grin on her face appeared between them. Something about the happiness she radiated gave the impression that she’d just won a contest.

“Um… yes, please,” Victor said, still clutching Makkachin to his chest.

“What a cute dog!” she exclaimed, joining her hands.

“How much do you want us to pay for looking after him?” Yuuri asked, cutting in before Victor got a chance to start gushing over how grateful he was for Makkachin. The question was a fair one, but it made Victor feel uneasy.

The woman flashed them both a smile. “To look after a cute dog for an hour?” She laughed and Victor relaxed. “Nothing.” She gave Victor a sly look. “I would love to get a photo with Victor Nikiforov, though.”

He felt Yuuri’s eyes on him. Here it was – the confrontation he’d done his best to avoid, the confrontation that he’d gotten so good at avoiding that he hadn’t even realized he was doing it. It occurred to him then that he’d approached Yuuri in much the same way. He wondered what sort of person that made him.

“Um…” Yuuri spoke up. “If you’ll excuse us?” He led Victor a few steps away and whispered. “You don’t have to agree to this. We can – I can call Phichit and ask him to come here and look after Makkachin while we skate. I can –”

One of Yuuri’s arms wrapped around Victor protectively. Victor was safe. He would be looked after.

Victor gave a slight shake of his head. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

They walked back to the woman who’d offered her help. The grin on her face didn’t seem to falter even for a second.

“Why don’t you hold on to my phone while I look after your dog?” she offered.

Victor opened his mouth to argue, but found himself nodding instead. He set Makkachin down and held out his leach to her. She gave him her phone in exchange.

“What is his name?” she asked, crouching down.

“His name is Makkachin,” Victor answered.

“Makkachin! What a cute name!” she exclaimed and reached out to pet him.

Makkachin licked her hand in response.

“Let’s go?” Yuuri offered in a low voice.

Victor nodded. He threw many glances back at Makkachin over his shoulder as they walked away.

The skating rink wasn’t big, but it came with a heated change room that doubled as a rental place for skates.

It took some time to sort out payment for rentals and then which sizes they needed before they got a pair of skates each and carried them to one of the available benches.

Victor kept stealing glances at Yuuri. Had he been right to insist that Yuuri skate with him? What if Yuuri didn’t enjoy it? But, no, that couldn’t be possible! How could anyone not enjoy skating?

He tied his skates on with a practiced hand and willed himself to calm down. He was going to finally get his wish. He was going to enjoy this.

Beside him Yuuri made a frustrated noise. “Sorry… I… I can’t tie these laces. Why don’t you go on ahead?” Victor saw Yuuri’s face redden with embarrassment.

“Let me.” Victor slid off the bench and carefully lowered himself in front of Yuuri. He started off with Yuuri’s right foot taking extra care with the laces.

Yuuri nodded without saying a word.

He tried not to think about the fact that Victor was on his knees before him. He wasn’t going to remember that Victor was the best figure skater in the world, or that he desperately wanted Victor. They were just two ordinary people about to go skating together like any two friends would.

When, at last, the shoelaces were tied to their mutual satisfaction. Victor moved away and Yuuri rushed up to his feet, impatient to go out on the ice where he was sure his mind would be too full of the fear of falling to present him with any tempting images.

Yuuri wobbled on his feet and teetered forward.

Victor reached out and caught him before he could smash down onto the floor. “Careful. It’s hard to balance. You have to –”

Yuuri raised his eyes. “I’m so sorry!” _He’s already regretting this, isn’t he?_ That thought was followed by a very treacherous one. _This would’ve gone perfectly, if it had been Chris here instead of me._

“No need to apologize,” Victor assured him. He frowned. “I should be the one apologizing. You’ve never done this before. This must be terrifying for you.” The frown was then replaced by a panicked expression. “You must be terrified of falling and hurting yourself. I understand. I promise I won’t let you get hurt.”

Did Victor know how dangerous a promise like that was? Did he know that it made Yuuri’s heart beat faster as he became more conscious of the wish that was eating him up from the inside? No, of course he didn’t.

Yuuri nodded, not trusting his mouth with any kind of response.

“Let’s go,” Victor urged him.

Victor led the way to the rink, one hand clutching Yuuri’s. With every step Yuuri became more and more conscious of the fact that he had two metal knives strapped to his feet. His legs felt stiff, as if they were made of wood.

Soon they were at the entrance onto the ice. Yuuri watched Victor step out and hesitated. Now what? Could he really do it? What if he fell? What if…

“Follow me,” Victor beckoned, reaching out with his second hand for Yuuri’s free hand.

“I really don’t know how to skate,” Yuuri blurted out, knowing full well that there was no going back now.

“That’s alright,” Victor assured him. “I’ll teach you.”

Yuuri nodded as if that settled it and stepped out onto the ice after Victor. He tipped over forwards and back, but Victor kicked off with one foot and skated away, going backwards gently and carrying Yuuri with him.

Yuuri followed, unable to do anything else. He felt so clumsy! Everyone must be staring at them now, wondering why the world champion was skating with –

Yuuri hit a rough patch of ice and nearly fell over.

“Bend your knees,” Victor instructed. “Use your feet to kick off. I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall. I promised, remember?”

Yuuri tried to bend his knees, but ended up toppling over and hitting his face against Victor’s chest. The blood rose to his cheeks. “Sorry,” he mumbled, raising his eyes to look into Victor’s face.

What was wrong with him? Why was he blushing like a teenager who was too embarrassed to even think the word “sex”? He’d slept with several people. He had no reason for blushing like this at every small touch! Still, despite all this, he couldn’t stop.

He saw people turn to stare at Victor. Even without knowing that Victor was the world’s best figure skater, he stood out in the crowd. Yuuri tried to focus on skating or on the fear of falling, but all he could see was the smile on Victor’s face.

“You’re doing it!” he exclaimed and let Yuuri go.

 _Doing what?_ he wondered as he shuffled after Victor. He reached out with both hands, trying to catch the skater.

Victor moved away, always contriving to stay just a little bit beyond Yuuri’s reach.

Yuuri tried to move faster, but Victor sped up as well. How long would they go on like this? Somewhere in the back of his mind Yuuri knew that they were stuck going in a circle, but all his eyes saw were Victor’s hands, his fingers, then his face and the smile on a mouth that he wanted to kiss.

 _Steady, Yuuri,_ he told himself. _You’re not going to do this. Victor doesn’t want this. He doesn’t need this. He needs a good friend and you’re going to be that friend._

Victor turned around and caught Yuuri’s hand. He opened his mouth to say something and raised his eyes in surprise.

Snowflakes tumbled down in a sudden downpour Yuuri usually associated with rain. They settled on Victor’s shoulders. They got tangled in his hair, caught on his eyelashes.

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed in happy surprise. “Yuuri!”

The music that was playing on the speakers broke into Yuuri’s brain, demanding his attention. It was a magical tune very much like a spell.

Victor closed his eyes with a smile on his face. Yuuri felt his own heart overflow with joy. Here it was – Victor’s dream becoming a reality, a completely perfect moment that said all too plainly that whatever came after didn’t matter because there was _this_ , there had always been this moment.

Yuuri put his arms around Victor. “I want to dance with you,” he said as a different wish struggled to the surface.

They pulled apart and he saw Victor stare at him, his face an image of confusion. “Dance?”

“We ask everyone to please leave the ice rink,” a voice called out over the speakers before Yuuri could think of anything else to add. “The rink is going to be cleaned.”

“Come.” Victor gripped Yuuri’s hand and led him back to the change rooms.

Dancing. Yuuri wondered where that wish had come from. He thought of their dance the night before. That was where. His cheeks burned.

This time he didn’t let Victor help him with his skates. Victor’s thoughts were elsewhere anyway – he was in a hurry to be reunited with Makkachin and even Yuuri shared this impatience.

He forgot completely about what he’d said and who knew when he would’ve remembered it again if Victor himself hadn’t brought it up after they finished eating dinner.

“You… um mentioned a dance…” Victor began cautiously as he set aside the last dish to dry.

Yuuri froze with the bowl of chocolates in his hands. He set it down slowly and forced himself to turn around and face Victor. “I did,” he agreed even thought there was no possible way he could deny this.

Victor dried his hands, taking extra care and watching his fingers. “I… I want to…” he swallowed, “…dance with you.”

Yuuri’s heart beat fast and the blood rose to his face. _Calm down,_ he told himself as he realized that his whole body was tingling from excitement.

“How…” Yuuri’s voice faltered. “How do you want to do this?” He felt his face burn. God! What was wrong with him?

“I can put some music on,” Victor offered. “On my phone, I mean. What do you want to try?”

The question made Yuuri colour with embarrassment. “I… um… can’t really dance anything other than ballet.” He risked a quick glance at Victor and lowered his eyes again. “Sorry.”

“That’s ok!” Victor assured him. “Maybe we can just watch some dancing videos and try copying what they do?”

This idea suited Yuuri just fine, in fact he had been about to suggest the same thing himself. “Let’s try it.”

They spent some time on Victor’s phone, trying to find a video of a dance they wanted to try. They went through passionate dances, not daring to meet each other’s eye, then more elaborate dances that consisted of hundreds of complicated steps.

“Oh! Tango!” Victor exclaimed as he clicked on another suggested video. “Like my free skate.”

Yuuri watched the dancers move slowly, holding each other close. The rhythm began to pick up and they followed it, without letting each other go.

The woman hooked her leg around the man’s leg and he leaned his face into her neck.

Yuuri stared at his own hands, as if suddenly very fascinated by them.

“Maybe something else,” Victor said. Was it Yuuri’s imagination, or was that longing in his voice? Did he want this as much as Yuuri did? And Yuuri wanted this more than anything.

He caught Victor’s hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “Let’s try the tango. Please.” It was so hard to look Victor in the eye, but he had to. He needed Victor to know that he meant this.

There was a faint blush on Victor’s face. He nodded.

“We can… um… try to dance the first half…” Yuuri added lamely. “If it doesn’t… if it turns out to be too hard…” He couldn’t continue. Not when they were sitting so close and Victor was staring at him like that.

“Ok,” Victor whispered.

Yuuri rose to his feet. He forced a smile onto his face and hoped it looked convincing. He did say he wanted this, so he had to look like he meant it, or Victor would get the wrong idea.

Then he sat back down. “Let’s watch that again.”

He forced himself to focus on the steps. He was a ballet dancer, he reminded himself, and he’d danced with others before. He could do this. But dancing with Mila had been chaste and innocent, while this tango…

Victor’s hand found Yuuri’s and gave it a light squeeze. “Thank you,” he whispered.

 _For what?_ He searched Victor’s face for answers.

Victor tore his eyes away from the video and smiled. “My free skate is nothing like this.”

Oh. This was going to be about his skating. Yuuri’s heart sank at this revelation. He shouldn’t feel surprised, he told himself. This was Victor after all. He studied Victor’s face as the man looped the video back and watched it again. Victor frowned and then his face assumed a studious expression as if he was analyzing every step and committing it to memory.

 _Focus,_ Yuuri tried to watch the video too, but his eyes kept returning to Victor’s face. He was back to frowning, a little crease forming between his eyebrows. _Something is wrong._ He looked at the video again.

It was just two people dancing a difficult and very passionate dance. The woman wore a deep red dress and the man was all in black. Yuuri couldn’t see anything to frown about. What was bothering Victor about two people dancing?

Victor hit pause and gave a heavy sigh. “My free skate is all wrong. It’s not a proper tango.”

And then Yuuri realized what Victor meant: the dance wasn’t just passionate. It burned. Victor’s skate had none of this passion and he only realized it now.

Yuuri straightened up and took Victor’s hand. “Maybe dancing this will help you skate better?”

A gentle smile lit up Victor’s face. “Yeah…”

Yuuri’s heart ached in his chest. This was nothing. He could cope with this, he told himself. He led Victor into the middle of the room and wrapped his free arm around Victor’s waist. He stepped forward and Victor retreated.

There was no music, nothing to guide them and all Yuuri could remember was how the dancers moved their feet. They went back and forth several times.

Victor stopped and burst out laughing.

“What? What?” Yuuri asked.

“I thought we were going to dance, but we’re just walking!” Victor exclaimed, giggling uncontrollably.

Yuuri felt the blood rise to his cheeks. “I… I couldn’t remember the other steps. Sorry.”

“Let’s watch it again,” Victor offered and made for his phone.

This time Yuuri really did only think about the dance.

But, despite Yuuri’s best efforts to get it right, Victor burst out laughing a second time barely a half hour later.

“Sorry!” Victor exclaimed. “I just got confused and… this really isn’t as easy as it looks!”

 _It doesn’t look all that easy!_ Yuuri thought, but he was smiling as he thought it.

Time flew by after that. When they next stopped they discovered to their mutual surprise that it was half past ten already.

“Makkachin needs to go for a walk,” Yuuri reminded him. “And we need to sleep. We can keep going tomorrow. What do you think?”

“That sounds like a great idea!” Victor agreed. “You’ll stay tonight, won’t you? It’s a little late to go home now.”

He ought to go. He had to learn to tear himself away from Victor and spend time on his own. He needed to put some distance between them before he did something stupid. But he couldn’t.

“Of course. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all!” Victor assured him without stopping to think. “I like it when you stay over!”

Yuuri managed a smile in response.

They were _friends_. Friends.

But most of him seemed to think otherwise.

It was morning again and Yuuri was in the studio change room, getting ready for another day of training. At least, he told himself, his next performance wasn’t scheduled for that evening.

It was too early to be awake. He wanted to crawl back into bed and continue sleeping.

 _Or crawl into bed with Victor and do something other than sleep,_ a treacherous part of his mind whispered to him.

Yuuri made a frustrated noise and folded all his clothes into a bag before stuffing it into the locker.

“Good morning, Yuuri!” That was Phichit.

It took a lot of self-control for Yuuri to turn around and face his friend with an expression on his face that wasn’t hostile. “Good morning.”

Phichit was beaming as if he’d just heard the best news it was possible to imagine. “Did you enjoy your day off?”

“Yes,” Yuuri tried to make it sound convincing. After all, it _was_ time: he had enjoyed his time with Victor very much.

Phichit leaned against the lockers. “So did I. That skater is something else.”

Victor’s face appeared before Yuuri’s eyes and he suppressed the urge to sigh again. Victor was definitely special. Yuuri’s heart beat faster to show it agreed.

“Definitely knows his way around a bed,” Phichit added with a soft laugh.

Yuuri frowned. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Oh?” Phichit raised an eyebrow. “Have you dated him too?”

“What?” Yuuri snapped out of his thoughts and stared at Phichit in incomprehension.

Phichit was watching him as if Yuuri was the most fascinating sight in the world. “But, then, I suppose you must’ve become very selective over time and it takes a lot to satisfy you.”

“Er… what are we talking about?” Somehow the conversation had gotten away from him in the last few minutes and Yuuri began to wonder if Phichit was talking about something else entirely, or if Yuuri had missed an important word somewhere.

Phichit had a skeptical look on his face, as if he wasn’t convinced that Yuuri was as confused as he claimed to be. “You know who I mean.” He closed his eyes and gave a happy sigh. “Christophe Giacometti. The best figure skater in the world after your Victor Nikiforov.”

“Oh.” Yuuri replayed the last two minutes of conversation in his head. “Are you saying you…?” He left the question hanging, uncertain of how to finish it.

“OH yes,” Phichit opened his eyes. “It’s just a one-time deal, of course.” He gave half-shrug. “I doubt either of us wants to be in this for the long term.”

There was something odd about the way he said it, but Yuuri wasn’t about to argue. Phichit was an adult. It was his decision and none of Yuuri’s business.

“On the topic of hot figure skaters…” Phichit began and shifted a little closer. “How is Victor?”

Yuuri closed his locker and turned the key with the air of someone who was doing a task that required a lot of concentration. “Fine. Why wouldn’t he be?”

“Of course. After a night with the great Yuuri. Or… I suppose that makes it two nights?”

Yuuri turned away. “Zero nights,” he said in a low voice.

“What?” There was so much innocent surprise in Phichit’s voice that Yuuri had to suppress the urge to curse at him.

“I didn’t…” he turned around and faced Phichit, “…sleep with him.”

“What? Really?” Phichit stared at him with wide-open eyes. “Why not? You’ve been getting on so well. I saw the way you were eyeing each other at the party.”

It was impossible to keep meeting Phichit’s eyes. “It was just those clothes,” Yuuri whispered.

“Don’t say that!” Phichit protested. “I saw the way he watched you dance!”

“No,” Yuuri shook his head, willing his heart to calm down. “You’re just imagining it.” _He was just imagining it,_ he told his heart.

“Why do you say that?”

This time Yuuri forced himself to meet Phichit’s eye. “You don’t know Victor like I do. You haven’t seen how lonely he is.” He saw Phichit open his mouth to argue and went on before he could interrupt. “Victor has never had proper friends in his life before. I don’t want to take all that away from him.”

“We can all be Victor’s friends,” Phichit pointed out. “You can be his _boy_ friend.”

Yuuri shook his head. “My mind is made up. You can’t convince me otherwise.”

“I can see that.” Phichit sighed. “I don’t understand you, Yuuri. I thought you wanted to get into bed with him?”

 _I do._ Yuuri swallowed down all his feelings, forcing everything to the bottom of his stomach. “I don’t anymore,” he lied and made for the exit.

“As if I’ll believe that!” Phichit exclaimed, following him out.

Yuuri remained silent.

“Alright, alright,” Phichit conceded, falling into step next to him. “I just think you’re torturing yourself for no reason. You’re free to do whatever you want. Obviously.”

Yuuri said nothing. It _was_ his choice and none of Phichit’s business just like the reverse was true for Phichit and Chris’ relationship.

“Will you wait for me at lunch?” Phichit asked.

“I can’t,” Yuuri told him and tried to look sorry about it even as a part hidden deep down inside him rejoiced at having a way to escape this uncomfortable conversation. “I promised to meet Victor for lunch.”

He waited for Phichit to point out that he’d be missing their free lunch this way, but he merely smiled. “Of course you are!”

And that seemed to be it. Yuuri didn’t tempt fate by saying anything else.

Victor arrived early. He circled the building once and came to a stop in front of the doors where he waited patiently for Yuuri to finish practice and come out to join him.

He thought about his plans for the evening. First he’d come get Yuuri. Then they’ll go back to his place and have dinner. Then walk Makkachin and finally they’d go to sleep. He wondered then if Yuuri would agree to dance with him again. Yuuri had enjoyed it, hadn’t he? Victor had definitely enjoyed it.

Maybe they could dance and then walk Makkachin and _then_ go to sleep. Or, maybe walk Makkachin first and then –

The doors opened, interrupting Victor’s thoughts. He forgot all about his plans and turned his attention to the door, ready to run to it as soon as he was sure that it was Yuuri.

But it was only Yuuri’s friend, whose name Victor couldn’t remember. Still Victor did his best to look friendly, just in case Yuuri came out of the building next, or the friend had some message to pass along from him.

“Hello, Victor!” the friend shouted to him.

Victor felt a pang of guilt at still being completely unable to remember the man’s name. “Hello! Fine day, isn’t it?”

“Yes, definitely!” the man agreed. (What letter did his name start with? Was it an “S”?) “Why are you waiting out here? Why don’t you come inside?” He nodded at the building behind him as if to make it absolutely clear what “inside” meant.

“Uh… I’m not sure I’m allowed.” He really wasn’t. The question seemed so odd to him. It was as if someone had come up to him and asked him why he breathed air. He just did. There was probably a good reason for it, but he’d never known what it was and he’d never really asked.

“Of course you are!” Yuuri’s friend declared. “Follow me.”

Victor wasn’t going to argue with this not when he was so curious to see the inside of the building himself.

He followed the friend whose name he still couldn’t remember inside and then up a flight of stairs and down a corridor. Music came from every room they passed. A different melody came from each room, but, to Victor’s ears, they were similar enough to pass for one continuous gentle melody played on the piano.

Yuuri’s friend stopped beside one of the doors and raised a finger to his lips.

Victor nodded and peered inside as carefully as he could.

Yuuri stood facing a mirror. He was in a lavender bodysuit and a pair of white tights. There was a gentle smile on his face as he raised his arms gracefully to the music.

Victor’s breath caught in his throat. It was impossible to look away from a sight like this.

Yuuri stopped moving, let out a slow breath and then began to spin on the spot.

The memory of New Year’s Even snuck up on Victor then and he wondered how the graceful and gentle person he was seeing now was the same person as the one he’d danced with then. How was it possible to be soft one day and hot on the next?

Other ballet dancers rushed in past Victor. They surrounded Yuuri and Victor recognized the friend who’d let him in among them.

Everyone fluttered around in a mix of pastel tones and bare arms. “Yuuri!” they exclaimed, demanding his attention.

He stopped what he was doing and stared at them in confusion.

“Yuuri!” the friend came forward. “Give us a kiss!”

Yuuri stared at him in surprise. “What?”

The friend tapped his cheek with his finger and Yuuri laughed.

“I want a kiss too!” the other ballet dancers exclaimed before Yuuri could do anything else.

They all reached out for him, enveloping him in a giant hug.

Victor felt someone give him a light push from behind and – next thing he knew – he was in the middle of the room, moving towards Yuuri.

Yuuri turned around. An expression of surprise flickered briefly across his face and was quickly replaced by a smile.

“Victor wants a kiss too!” Yuuri’s friend called out form somewhere deep in the crowd of dancers.

Yuuri’s cheeks reddened and Victor felt a blush rise to his own face. “Really, Phichit…” Yuuri began to protest.

But the dancers had somehow managed the trick of bringing them very close together and Victor found himself staring open-mouthed at Yuuri.

It was like something from a dream – he was adrift in a soft pastel sea with his best friend by his side.

“Do you?” Yuuri asked in a low voice.

Victor had no idea what the question was – he was too distracted by the sight of Yuuri to focus on the conversation but he felt instinctively what the right answer was. “I do.”

Yuuri took him by the arms and leaned forward, pressing his lips to Victor’s cheek. Around them the dancers applauded, as if they’d done something truly incredible.

Yuuri pulled away and his eyes glowed. “How was that?” he whispered.

He could feel Yuuri’s breath on his face and he could see deep into his eyes. His beautiful eyes…

Yuuri stepped back and then turned away. “We’re off to have lunch. See you all later!”

“Lunch…” the dancers murmured and, to Victor’s surprise, a few of them waggled their eyebrows.

“Enjoy!” one of the dancers exclaimed and everyone else collapsed into laughter.

Was this some kind of ballet joke? Victor had no idea and he was too scared of being laughed at to ask. Maybe it was one of those jokes that everyone got but him. Well, he was used to that by now, wasn’t he?

So he did what he always did when the people around him were sharing a joke he wasn’t privy to: he put on a cheery expression and faked a laugh. “I’ll do my best.”

This resulted in more laughter and he acted as if that was what he was aiming for.

Yuuri took Victor’s hand and led him out of the room, exchanging a glance with his friend just as they went out.

What did that mean? What did those jokes mean? Why were Victor’s words met with so much laughter? He suspected that he would never find out. But he could live with that. He’d much rather spend time with Yuuri than understand what they’d been laughing about.

Yuuri brought him into a change room and released Victor’s hand. “Sorry. I just need to put something else on and then we can go.”

“I can wait outside,” Victor offered.

For a moment, it looked as if Yuuri would say yes, but then his expression changed to something Victor couldn’t understand. “Stay here.”

Victor was lost. It was as if he’d somehow ended up in a land where all the customs were completely different from his own. He didn’t know what he had to do next, or what to say to the people around him.

Yuuri walked over to one of the lockers and opened it. Then, much to Victor’s surprise, he began to change right there in front of him.

Victor caught sight of a bare chest as Yuuri leaned down and pulled the body suit off and turned away. Despite everything they’d been through, this felt too intimate.

He fidgeted and tried to think of something to say to disguise how awkward he felt in that moment. “I thought we could go back to my place and make something. It won’t take long. You’ll be back in an hour.”

For some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he, himself, was naked and it made him even more uncomfortable. “I… we’ll get to visit Makkachin.” He was rambling now and he knew it. “I think he gets lonely without us.” He went on about Makkachin, talking about his food and taking him out on walks, unable to stop. What was wrong with him?

And then he knew why he was doing it: he was trying to fill the silence, terrified that if he didn’t fill it, then something terrible would happen.

But what could possibly happen? He was with Yuuri – his best friend. What did it matter if Yuuri was changing out of his clothes? There was nothing to be embarrassed about. It was just the human body and nothing more.

Just as he finally managed to convince himself of this last fact and turn around, Yuuri finished getting ready. They faced each other, trapped in a sudden moment of uncertainly.

“Let’s go?” Yuuri asked, pulling on his gloves.

Victor nodded and offered up his hand.

Yakov watched Victor skate out on the ice. January was ending, which meant that there was very little time left until the European Championships. There was no doubt in his mind that Victor would take the gold medal there again, but it went against his rules to point this out to his pupil. At this moment, he was more worried about his pupil’s well-being than how he would do in a competition.

Something was happening in Victor’s mind, or perhaps in his heart, and it was changing the way he skated the tango routine. Something about his movements suggested a dance partner.

Dance partner!

Yakov thought again of the way his pupil skated the Nutcracker routine, of how oddly he’d acted lately, of the smiles that were starting to appear on his face, in short – of all the evidence that Victor had fallen in love with someone and wondered if he’d ever learn the whole truth.

It was entirely possible that the press had met whoever had taken Victor’s heart, but Yakov never had the time nor patience for the gossip columns.

_Whether he’s in love or not, he appears to be happy. It’s best that I stay out of it._

He clapped his hands once to get Victor’s attention. It was time to get this routine right.

“Victor! This is a _tango_! It needs to be passionate!”

His pupil stared at him in silence for several minutes. Finally he spoke, “I know.”

Yuuri loved evenings like this: when they were both side by side in the kitchen, making dinner together. This time Victor had turned the radio on and was now humming along to it. This was true happiness, Yuuri thought. This was what he’d grabbed onto and was holding on to as tightly as he could.

Victor had another competition coming up. Yuuri, on the other hand, was training for a different ballet now that the Nutcracker season had finished.

“I need to go back tonight,” Yuuri said, remembering about all the chores piling up in his neglected apartment. “I need to do some laundry and vacuuming.”

“You can do your laundry here,” Victor volunteered. He turned away from the stove and met Yuuri’s eye. “You come over so often, you might as well move in with me!” His tone was light, as if he’d just told a funny joke, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, his eyes widened in surprise, as if he’d just heard what he’d said. He clapped a hand over his mouth.

Yuuri felt his heart beat faster in his chest. He waited silently for Victor to take his words back, or to say something like “I’d be glad for you to move in, of course, but…”

But the smile returned to Victor’s face and he said, “I would be really happy if you decided to move in, but I understand if you don’t want to. Would you like to move in with me?”

Relief washed over Yuuri. He took Victor’s free hand with both of his own. “I’d love to move in with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention after my last update that I spent a week before New Year’s Eve in Moscow and St. Petersburg and saw how beautifully decorated both cities were for the holidays. This chapter was largely inspired by my trip. I’m also very tempted to write a canonverse fic about Victor and Yuuri enjoying the holidays. No idea when I’ll get a chance to actually do it. Maybe I'll leave it for the end of the year.
> 
> [This is the music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HiUkmghWoWo) that plays when Yuuri and Victor are out on the ice.


	9. About Sex

Yuuri moved in two weeks later. It was an easy move – he didn’t have a lot of things and most of what he _did_ have (like furniture) he ended up giving away or even throwing out. He avoided telling people about the move, not wanting them to get the wrong idea. Only after it was over did he realize just what he’d done.

Of all the people he’d dated, no one had ever offered to live together with him before. Here was Victor – who Yuuri hadn’t dated – offering to share the apartment with him.

Victor was in the kitchen, making dinner while Yuuri finished arranging what was now his room. His eye fell on a small box at his feet and he frowned at its contents.

He closed it and pushed it under the bed. There was no point in keeping it. It was probably better to throw it out.

He opened his door and the smell of a freshly-baked pie burst into the room. He followed it into the kitchen where he found Victor setting the table for two. He’d spread out a beautiful tablecloth and placed a nice china set Yuuri hadn’t seen before.

“What’s all this?” Yuuri asked.

“I wanted to celebrate you moving in,” Victor announced.

Yuuri felt tears rise to his eyes. His knees trembled under him. “Thank you,” he managed and dropped into a chair.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Victor asked.

Yuuri reached out and took Victor’s hand with both of his own. “I’m very touched.”

A smile appeared on Victor’s face. “I’ve never had something to celebrate before, so I’m so glad you accepted this!”

The words dropped like a dagger into Yuuri’s heart. _I will do my best to make sure you’ll have lots to celebrate in the future._ He pressed Victor’s hand to the side of his face.

His treacherous mind chose that moment to drop the memory of his box on him.

_No, not now,_ he told himself.

“Yuuri?” Victor asked.

He stared into Victor’s face, suddenly convinced that the man could read his mind.

“T-the pie is ready,” Victor stammered out. “I need to take it out before it burns.”

Yuuri gave a quick nod and let Victor go.

The box took up all the available space in his mind, taunting him. He should’ve thrown it out before moving in. Now it took all his effort to keep from mentioning it.

He watched Victor set the pie down and listened to him talk about it needing to cool a little. Then he talked about having a pie day at the orphanage. Yuuri just listened, nodding from time to time to show that he was paying attention.

He let Victor talk for as long as he wanted and the man only stopped when enough time had passed for the pie to cool down.

Then he fetched a knife and cut into the pie. He served Yuuri a piece first and then himself.

Yuuri stared down at his slice. It was filled with cherries. He suppressed the urge to laugh.

Once they’d both had two slices of pie and cleared the table, Victor asked, “What do you want to do now? I wish I could offer a movie for us to watch, but I don’t have any movies.” He gave a little sigh. “I bought a TV, but I never watched anything on it, so I never bothered signing up for any channels.”

“I have movies,” Yuuri admitted before he could stop himself. _Stupid box!_ “I brought some with me during the move.”

“Great! We can watch one of them!” Victor exclaimed, glad to have resolved the issue.

“I… uh…” _Damn! How do I say this?_ “I don’t think you’ll like them,” Yuuri began. It was so hard to keep meeting Victor’s clear and honest stare. “They’re all porn movies.” There. The truth was out now. He watched Victor’s face, curious to see what his reaction would be.

“I’ve never watched porn before…” Victor admitted thoughtfully. “What is it like?”

“Um… very explicit,” Yuuri answered, not knowing how else he could possibly describe it. “The actors get naked and they have sex.” He felt like he was stating the obvious, but there really wasn’t anything else he could add at this point. “And they show… everything,” he said, hoping that was descriptive enough for Victor. He’d seen the way Victor didn’t react to innuendo and realized that, having never heard it before, Victor had no way of knowing that such a thing existed.

“Everything?” Victor asked. “Oh! Do you mean everything they do?”

“Yes.” Yuuri tried to imagine the movies from the point of view of someone who’d never seen them. “It’s… There’s a kind of template for this sort of thing. Two characters meet and decide to have sex. The reason doesn’t matter. The movie isn’t trying to be meaningful or something. It just shows two hot actors getting naked and having sex in a lot of detail. There’s no censorship, so they show the actors’…” he hesitated. “…bums and uh… their… uh…” he gestured towards his own lap, “…private parts.”

He hated himself for it, but could anyone out there say “ass” and “dick” with Victor watching them in that innocent way of his? It didn’t help that Yuuri wanted Victor. If anything, it made everything even more awkward.

“Anyway.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s just search for something to watch on YouTube.”

“Why? You said you have porn movies and I’d like to watch one.” After a brief pause, he added, “It sounds like something lots of people watch, so I’d like to watch a movie too. Just to get an idea.”

_How did he decide that lots of people watch porn?_ Yuuri wondered, but he didn’t say anything about that. “Alright.” He got up and made for his room.

He spent a long time rifling through the contents of the box, trying to decide which was the best movie for them to watch.

He got to the bottom of the box and his eyes fell on the DVD cover of the one that had gotten buried below all the others.

_This one,_ he thought. _It doesn’t have any trying up or other things Victor might not get._

He walked back with the movie in his hand, passing by the closet where Victor stored his medals and thinking about what he was about to do. There was something surreal about the whole situation. Was he really about to sit down with Victor to watch a porn movie?

Victor was sitting on the couch, just as Yuuri had left him, waiting patiently for Yuuri return.

Yuuri held the DVD out to Victor and watched his face turn pink as he accepted it and saw what was on the cover.

It wasn’t a very original shot, but it was bound to take someone who wasn’t prepared to see something like it by surprise. The cover showed two bare legs spread out on either side and a backside that was very definitely bare. This was followed by a back covered by nothing and finally ended with a knowing smile given over one shoulder as if to show that this person knew what the onlooker really wanted. A small figure sat on a couch that appeared between the two legs. It was hard to make out any detail about this figure apart from one – here was someone who was also very definitely naked.

Victor’s mouth opened slightly as he stared.

_He does have a beautiful ass,_ Yuuri thought and suppressed the urge to smile. “I don’t know if you’ll like this one. If it makes you uncomfortable, we’ll turn it off and find something else to do.”

“No, no!” Victor protested. “I’m sure it will be fine!”

Yuuri didn’t say anything. He waited for Victor to remember that there was more to watching this movie than just staring at the DVD cover and settled down on the couch to watch Victor turn his TV on. Soon Victor joined Yuuri, armed with a remote.

The menu was the next big shock. It showed the lead actor (the one who’d demonstrated his backside so well on the cover) with his hands over his nipples and a look of playful shock on his face as he stood with his legs just a little apart and still very definitely not wearing anything.

“Uh…” Victor stared, blinked and very obviously tried to focus on the words in the menu. “Um… play movie, language options, bonus features,” he read the words out as if he didn’t quite understand what they meant.

Yuuri watched him, remembering all the bonus features he’d seen in the his collection. “Just click play,” he said and shifted a little to have a better view of Victor. This could turn out to be very entertaining in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

Victor hit the play button and was rewarded with a loud gasp as the menu faded to black. This time his expression was merely one of innocent puzzlement.

The plot – if such it could be called – of the movie wasn’t a very original one. It started off innocently enough with the main character wanting to buy a pizza and figuring out once he got to the place and made his order that – oh horror of horrors! – he’d forgotten his wallet at home.

“I had that happen to me once,” Victor admitted. “I had to run back home to get it and –”

_“Maybe there’s another way I can pay you,” the main character offered._

“Yeah, I remember going through all my pockets in the hopes that I’d left some change somewhere,” Victor went on.

Yuuri bit his lip. Even if he couldn’t remember what would happen next, he had a pretty good guess as to where it was going. It was terrible, but at least it did a good job of cheering him up whenever he felt upset.

_The main character threw a glance back over his shoulder, but the place was very empty. Then, very slowly, he began to pull the zipper of his jacket down to reveal a bare chest._

“Why is…” Victor began and then the zipper got all the way down to reveal that the man had absolutely nothing on under his coat. “Oh!” He turned bright red. “Well. That… that definitely didn’t…”

Yuuri burst out laughing. He turned to watch the movie.

The camera lingered over all the interesting parts of the actor’s anatomy, or – at least – what could be seen from the front.

_“That would’ve been enough for a plain pizza,” the chef declared, hardly batting an eyelid, “but you ordered three toppings.”_

_“Ah, let me guess – it’s one topping per topping?” the customer asked with a knowing smile._

Yuuri glanced at Victor. He was looking puzzled again. That question probably sounded like gibberish to him.

_“Yes, I like to be reasonable,” the chef agreed. He gestured at the back room. “I have a bedroom in the back. Why don’t we go there?”_

_The other man nodded and made for the bedroom._

_The chef flipped the sign on the door to “closed” and locked the door. There was a pleased smile on his face._

The movie was not a movie but a dictionary in video format. It was in the language that people sometimes spoke around Victor, but it provided translations every single time. Suddenly a lot of things were beginning to clear up.

He did wonder, though, why the pizza place had a bedroom in the back and he wondered why the customer hadn’t put something on under his coat. Wasn’t he cold?

The back had what turned out to be the emptiest bedroom Victor had ever seen. The camera showed one shot of a bare room with a bed in the middle and moved on to show the chef gesture at it. For a brief moment, Victor wondered why the bedroom didn’t have any other furniture or at least some pictures on the walls for decoration.

The customer unzipped his coat and let it slide off his shoulders and Victor forgot all about the strange bedroom.

He knew that the point was to look, but he had a very hard time getting himself to do it. His eyes slid down the man’s back and then back up again, terrified that he was being rude.

In a way, what happened next was a kind of dance. The customer sprawled out on the bed without any clothes on and the chef climbed over him, but not before stripping first. The camera didn’t miss a single detail and Victor found himself unable to look away.

“They got very hot actors for this,” Yuuri’s voice cut in just as the camera gave them a big close up of the chef’s privates. “They did a bunch of movies together. I have a lot of them.”

Victor was feeling very warm now. He threw a quick sideways glance at Yuuri and saw that he was completely at ease. He must’ve watched this many times and knew what to expect, but Victor was both terrified and excited by what might happen next.

The camera switched to a view of the customer, who had half turned on the bed to watch the chef. “I think I’m going to ask for a forth topping,” he said.

The chef smiled. “Do you have any other requests for me?”

The customer shook his head.

Victor had no idea what to expect next. How could he know? He’d spent most of his life out on the ice. He’d never considered that two people might do more than hug or kiss.

As he soon learned, there were _a lot_ more things people could do apart from kissing or hugging.

He watched the chef pour some kind of liquid over his hands and then sit down on the bed and take the customer’s backside with those same hands and…

Victor stared opened-mouthed. His face was purple now. The man was sticking his fingers in…

The customer moaned and Victor felt his own body shudder in response. This was a shudder he’d never experienced before: for starters, it felt good and also…

The chef kept at the skin between – oh he had to finish that thought now – the customer’s butt cheeks. There. He thought it now. Was this it? Was this…

He didn’t get to finish that thought because the chef chose that moment to pull his hand away and climb over the customer and…

Victor gave a surprised gasp that was echoed by the customer but with a different emotion.

“Are you ok?” Yuuri asked. “I can turn it off, if you don’t want to watch.” He picked up the remote, but Victor reached out for it.

“No…” he said in a breathless voice. “I want to keep watching. Please.”

“Alright.” Yuuri put the remote into Victor’s hand. “Just hit stop as soon as it gets uncomfortable for you.”

Victor set the remote aside without thinking.

The room filled with the sounds of the chef and customer gasping for air.

_“More…” the customer moaned._

_The chef pushed against him._

Something strange was happening to Victor and he wondered if his body was trying to repeat what was happening on the screen. “I…” He stared down at his pants where a very visible bulge had formed and then stared in embarrassment at Yuuri. “I…”

“It’s a natural reaction,” Yuuri assured him and then gestured at himself.

For the first time Victor let his eyes drop to Yuuri’s crotch. There was a bulge there too. He looked away at once, embarrassed at what he’d seen.

“Sorry,” Yuuri said. “I should’ve warned you. I didn’t realize you didn’t know what to expect at all.”

Victor stared at the screen just as the two men in the movie pulled apart and the camera showed them both in great detail. There was an image he was probably never going to forget.

Both men were out of breath as if they’d just finished running a marathon. But they’d been just lying on the bed, pushing against each other. Victor remained silent and watched the two men switch and go through it all again. He watched a hand slide over a bare back, over a pair of buttocks and then under and…

_The chef turned over and the customer caressed his thighs with his hands._

_“I forgot to ask if you wanted a drink with your order,” the chef suddenly remembered._

_Instead of an answer the customer lowered his head…_

Victor let out a second surprised gasp and raised his hand to his mouth.

“Um…” Yuuri began and Victor moved the remote further away from them both.

He shouldn’t be surprised at all the details they were showing, he told himself, and then he tried to imagine what this was like for the actors. They had to lie there and… and have sex while the cameras zoomed in on their… dicks. It was hard to even think those two words, although the images on the screen suggested them both very graphically.

“He’s going to eat – I mean he’s going to put his mouth against the chef’s bum next…” Yuuri warned in a low voice.

Victor nodded. By the strange logic of what he was seeing, that seemed to make perfect sense.

He watched it all until the very end, until they let each other go and the chef said that the payment was accepted.

_The customer licked his lips and smiled. “Thank you for the meal. My compliments to the chef.”_

The scene faded to black and credits rolled up the screen. The movie was finished.

Yuuri took Victor’s hand. “You’ll feel better if you go take a cold shower,” he suggested gently.

Victor met his eye, embarrassed of reacting so strongly to everything he’d seen. Yuuri had remained calm throughout. Why couldn’t he?

“Ok,” he agreed and rose to his feet. He wobbled slightly and, for a moment, he thought he would fall over.

Yuuri caught him before he could hit the ground. “Now it’s my turn to keep you from falling,” he said and a smile appeared on his lips.

Victor gave him a weak smile in return. “I suppose…”

He let Yuuri lead him to the washroom and then protested that really he was fine and could stand on his own now.

Yuuri released him and Victor succeeded in staying upright.

“I won’t be long,” Victor promised and slipped into the washroom, locking the door behind him.

It felt odd to take his clothes off. Bits of the movie kept flashing before his eyes. When he removed his underwear he remembered how one man had put his mouth against the other’s um… well he did _that_ and…

Victor grabbed onto the wall and fought through the images. Maybe watching that movie _had_ been a bad idea, he thought.

He climbed into the shower and turned the water on. A cold stream hit him and he felt his body start to calm down.

No, he needed to know. A part of him had always wondered what sex actually _was_ and he’d puzzled over a lot of Chris’ comments on the subject. Well, now he knew.

Did knowing make him feel better, though? He wasn’t sure.

He finished his shower and climbed out to dry himself with his towel. His eye fell on the rack where Yuuri’s towel hung next to his.

He was living with Yuuri now. In all the bustle of moving in he hadn’t had a single moment to really stop and think. He was no longer alone: he had Yuuri to keep him company now.

The evening only improved after that. While Yuuri took a shower Victor made them both tea, which Yuuri seemed to really enjoy.

_Victor lay on his back with his legs spread out and no clothes on. Yuuri’s mouth was on his dick._

_His whole body shuddered._

_He was naked and yet his body burned as if someone had set it on fire._

_“Yuuri!”_

Victor awoke with a start. His whole body still burned.

_It was just a dream, just a dream. Oh god! What will Yuuri think of me if he finds out that I had a dream like that about him? He’ll want to move out right away!_

His whole body was still reacting to the dream in the same way it had reacted to the movie. He had to do something or he’d never fall asleep.

He got up and tiptoed past Yuuri’s room to the bathroom to take another cold shower. He had to calm down. He had to go back to sleep and not think about it anymore.

But when he opened the door Yuuri was standing just outside with a worried look on his face. “Are you alright?”

Victor felt like a criminal caught red-handed. “Yes,” he lied. He waited for Yuuri to ask why he was taking a shower in the middle of the night, or to say something else to show that he wasn’t fooled, but Yuuri merely nodded. “Sorry for waking you up,” Victor added lamely.

“You didn’t,” Yuuri assured him. “I woke up before you came here.”

Victor gave an absent-minded nod and walked back to his bedroom.

Yuuri followed close behind him. “Are you sure you’re ok?” he asked.

He paused in the doorway, opened his mouth to confess everything and nodded instead.

They regarded each other in silence for several minutes and then Yuuri folded his arms around Victor. “Good night,” he whispered. “I hope that this time you will sleep well.”

“Thank you.”

To Victor’s surprise, he did sleep well this time. So well, in fact, that he slept through his alarm and woke up a whole hour late to find that not only had Yuuri already left, but also that he’d left a surprise: a breakfast lay in the kitchen, waiting for Victor, complete with a little note.

_I hope your day goes well_

_Yuuri_

Victor sank into one of the chairs. This was what he’d wanted his whole life – little moments like these, shared between him and a special someone.

He lifted one of the plates that Yuuri had used as a dish cover and found that the pancakes Yuuri had made for him were still warm. Even the water in the teapot hadn’t cooled completely. There was the smallest hint of Yuuri’s scent in the air. It was as if Victor had just missed him.

But it was very late and he knew that it had been a lot longer than a few minutes since Yuuri had left.

Victor finished his breakfast, sending Yuuri a mental thank you and then texting it to him as well, and got up to prepare for another day of practice.

Perhaps, others might argue that nothing had changed, that Yuuri had been staying his place for a while now and that moving in had only meant that he didn’t have to make occasional trips to his place, but it still felt different to Victor. He no longer had to worry that the day had come when Yuuri would decline his invitation and chose to go home instead. No, now he knew for certain that Yuuri would be there with him in the evening.

More than that, it opened up the possibility that a day would come when Yuuri would be waiting there for him and what could possibly be better than that?

It was only when that evening came and they had dinner together, and walked Makkachin that Victor was faced with his dilemma again.

“What do you want to do now?” Yuuri asked, walking in through the door and pocketing his key to the apartment.

Victor remembered then about the movie they’d watched the night before. “Um…” he stared down at his hands and fidgeted. He wanted this, but he was terrified of what would happen afterwards. “Um…”

“We can dance again,” Yuuri offered, turning away and scratching Makkachin’s fur.

Dancing. Right. There was _that_ option, that was true.

“I want…” Victor’s mouth felt drier than a desert. He swallowed and then licked his lips.

An image of the customer from the movie licking his lips flashed across his mind and he regretted what he’d just done.

“Do you have any more of those… movies?” he finally managed. It was a stupid question. Yuuri had told him the day before that he had a lot of them, but he didn’t know how else to introduce the subject.

A look of doubt appeared on Yuuri’s face. “Are you sure you want to watch another one? I thought you didn’t like the first one?”

“What? No! No! I really enjoyed it!” Victor protested and felt his face burn with embarrassment. “I was – I mean it was very educational –”

Yuuri burst out laughing.

Victor stood still, not daring to move and watched in embarrassment as Yuuri continued to laugh.

“I’m sorry…” Yuuri finally managed. “It’s just that I never… never met anyone who called porn educational!”

Victor tried his best to hide his face and then gave up. “I know,” he said in a voice that admitted all his failings. “I’m just very clueless about all this.”

Yuuri put a hand over Victor’s. “There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just that all this – well the movies are fictional, so they choose ridiculous plots on purpose.” He smiled at Victor. “Please don’t get offended that I’m saying this. I just don’t know how obvious that is.”

Victor nodded. “I understand.”

“Alright. Then let’s watch another one.”

This time Yuuri brought out a box full of DVDs and let Victor choose one himself.

Victor flipped through them, blushing at every cover. “You have… uh quite the collection here.”

“I know. It started out as a present someone gave me as a joke, then another joke until several people decided that what I really need is a collection and… well, to be honest, I bought a few of these myself.”

“They’re… are they all with the same actors?” Victor asked, trying hard to look away from one of the covers, but failing. As soon as he thought he succeeded in tearing his eyes away from it, they would return to it once more. This one showed one of the actors in very tight leather clothes.

“Yes,” Yuuri answered. There was a short pause and then he added in a lower voice, “We can watch that one next, if you want.”

Victor flushed and slipped it to the bottom of the stack. “No, no, it’s fine!” He didn’t know why he was protesting, but there was something extra terrifying about that leather outfit and he wasn’t sure he wanted to see the actor walk around in it.

An awkward silence followed.

Finally Victor broke it. “He… uh… he looks a bit like you. The actor.” He regretted the words the moment he uttered them. Would Yuuri get offended, or worse – would he figure out that Victor had dreamt about him doing that? He was bound to figure it out eventually!

“Thank you,” Yuuri replied. “He’s very hot, so I take it as a compliment.”

Victor merely nodded, not trusting himself with saying anything.

“Hmmm…” Yuuri shuffled through the pile again until the leather outfit movie ended up back on top. “Why don’t we watch this one?” He held it up as if he’d just dug it up for the first time.

Victor met Yuuri’s eye and swallowed. _He knows. He can see right through me. He’s probably guessed about the dream too._ He nodded weakly.

Yuuri got up and walked over to the TV.

This time as he set it up, the TV screen turned on, bathing him in a bright light.

Victor stared. The light passed through Yuuri’s shirt, making it see-through.

“Ah. There.” Yuuri turned around.

Was it Victor’s imagination, or could he see the man’s nipples through his shirt?

“Victor?”

He blinked and realized that his mouth was hanging open. “I… uh… I’m really thirsty. I’ll get us something to drink!” As he made for the kitchen he could’ve sworn that he heard Yuuri giggle.

When, at last, he hit play the movie spent a long time showing one of the actors dancing in a very tight leather suit.

Victor couldn’t look away, not from a single close up. He sat with the empty cup raised to his mouth and waited for the lead actor to start stripping.

The man turned, demonstrating how tight the leather pants were at the back and Victor thought of Yuuri at the New Year’s party. He’d worn leather then. There had also been something frightening and exciting about being with Yuuri that day, he suddenly remembered.

The main character turned and his gloved fingers found the zipper that started at the top of his neck.

Victor couldn’t breathe.

The zipper parted the leather suit in two, revealing the pale skin underneath. The suit had to be pulled off slowly to reveal bare shoulders and a very bare chest.

Of course the man was wearing nothing underneath. This time Victor didn’t even expect there to be underwear under that suit.

The zipper reached the man’s waist and stopped.

Victor made a strangled noise.

“Are you alright?” Yuuri whispered, hitting pause.

He didn’t dare meet Yuuri’s eye, because the actor really _did_ look like Yuuri and the thought that followed that one wasn’t one he dared to think. “I’m fine.” He wasn’t. He really wasn’t.

Yuuri put a hand on Victor’s shoulder and Victor shuddered under his touch. “Let’s go for a walk instead.”

“But I want to finish watching!” Victor pleaded. The cry came from deep inside. He knew then that he wanted to watch the actor strip. He wanted to feel that rush of fear and excitement, no – he needed it. He didn’t even blush as he admitted all this to himself.

“Alright,” Yuuri agreed. “Just let me know, if it makes you feel uncomfortable.”

Victor nodded without arguing. He didn’t dare point out that at times he couldn’t figure out just how it made him feel, only that he wanted to feel that rush of emotion again.

Yuuri hit play, letting his arm brush against Victor’s.

On the screen the actor finished shedding the leather suit from his torso. He turned and the camera showed a close up of his backside again. His buttocks filled the whole screen.

He lowered the suit further down and Victor saw the band circling his waist and a single line going down between two butt cheeks.

The actor bent over forward as he pulled the suit off completely.

Victor stared at the bare thighs and mostly bare buttocks and felt his brain shut down on him. There wasn’t even the smallest hint of a thought, so that when the actor straightened up and faced the camera Victor didn’t have the presence of mind to think “oh, he’s wearing a thong.”

The actor beckoned someone to him and Victor had to find the urge to leap into his TV screen. The actor picked someone from a big group of people lucky enough to be near him and Victor recognized the other lead actor he’d seen in the first movie.

He should’ve been prepared for what would happen next, but it still caught him off guard.

The actor’s hands slid over the other man’s body…

Yuuri watched Victor’s reactions. This had been a very bad idea. He hadn’t realized just how bad at first, but now it was becoming glaringly obvious. It was so hard to sit next to Victor, watch him get turned on and do absolutely nothing about it.

Yuuri found himself wishing he’d been the one stripping on the screen.

And, meanwhile, a part of his mind was cataloging his observations for later: leather, thongs, blowjobs…

The movie ended and he waited for Victor to go take a cold shower before they left together to walk Makkachin.

Yuuri wished they could talk about the movie, but he didn’t know what he could possibly say about it.

The next night came and Victor asked for another movie. This time Yuuri didn’t argue. He brought them both water and let Victor pick another DVD from the pile.

The following night Victor picked on while wearing a blindfold, which quite by blind luck ended in a movie where the main character wore a blindfold for most of it. Victor didn’t understand why and Yuuri didn’t dare try to explain.

Victor was making discoveries, Yuuri could see that, but he didn’t talk about them, as if he’d stumbled upon forbidden knowledge no one was supposed to have. Yuuri longed to talk about it. He wanted to explain to Victor that there was nothing to be embarrassed about in what the movies showed and he wanted to know why Victor kept waking up in the middle of the night to take a shower. Had he always done that? Had Yuuri just somehow missed it?

A week of movies later, Yuuri realized that if he wanted to talk, he would have to start the conversation himself.

“I don’t think that was a very good one,” he admitted as the credits rolled after yet another movie. “It’s one of their earlier ones, so I don’t think they’d gotten the hang of making them just yet.”

“I liked it anyway,” Victor admitted. “Although, I suppose it would’ve been better if they’d lingered on some of the views.”

Yuuri nodded. “Yes and more close ups.”

“And that interesting angle they did in that one with the pie maker when they let the camera pass between his thighs as if you’re there…” Victor’s voice trailed off.

“There’s an even better camera angle!” Yuuri exclaimed, getting carried away. “It’s when…” He caught himself just in time. “We can watch the movie with that one tomorrow,” he offered.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Yuuri assured him. “It doesn’t take a lot of effort to put a movie on. It’s not as if I made them.”

“Still,” Victor insisted, “you put them on for me. Thank you.”

“I’d… uh… I’d watch them a lot when I needed cheering up,” Yuuri admitted. “After I had one of those days when nothing seemed to go right.”

Victor smiled. “I’d probably do that too, if I needed cheering up.”

Yuuri studied his face. _You don’t understand, do you? Of course you don’t._ He didn’t know what to say now. He stared down at his hands, replaying the last few minutes of their conversation and trying to think of something else to say.

“These movies show sex very differently from how I always thought of it,” Victor suddenly confessed.

Yuuri didn’t know what to say to that. He saw how almost every detail of the movies caught Victor by surprise from the way the camera followed the line of someone’s bare back, to their buttocks, to what the actors did to each other on the screen.

“I mean… I always thought that sex was… you know…” Victor waved his hand through the air in a gesture Yuuri failed to understand. “…tied to love. You fall in love, get married and then have sex.”

Yuuri didn’t meet Victor’s eye. He suppressed the urge to give a sad laugh. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d had sex with no love involved whatsoever. “The movies aren’t accurate, but real life isn’t as you describe it either.”

“I know.” Victor was silent for a long time after that.

Yuuri turned his head and studied him.

Victor sat with his knees raised to his chin and his head lowered. “I’m very naïve…” he whispered, rubbing a thumb over the palm of his other hand.

“I used to think something like that,” Yuuri admitted. “And then I started dating.”

“What happened?”

Too late Yuuri realized that he’d never mentioned dating others before. Well, it was out in the open now. He gave a sad smile. “I learned my lesson. There are a lot of people out there willing to take advantage of you. Some of them want something, but some do it just because they’re bored.”

Victor shifted over on the couch and put his arms around Yuuri. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Why? It’s not your fault. Anyway, I’ve gotten over all that now.” He tried to look as happy as he could. “I found you and I’m happy when I’m with you.”

“I’m happy when I’m with you too,” Victor replied.

Yuuri put his arms around Victor in return. They held each other tightly for several minutes without saying a word.

They pulled apart and Victor rose to his feet. “Time for a shower and sleep,” he said. He stopped and stared down at the box. “How many movies do you have?”

“Twenty-five. Why?”

“I was just thinking that eventually we’ll run out of movies to watch,” he gave Yuuri a sad smile. “But, I suppose we can always watch them all over again.”

“We can…” Yuuri began, stopped, saw Victor watching him and continued, “We can try it, if you want. If… if you’re curious to know how it feels. Try having sex, I mean.” He felt the blood rise to his cheeks.

Victor’s face turned deep red. “You don’t have to do that for me.”

Yuuri opened his mouth. Did Victor _really_ just turn him down? “I…” He pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them close. “I don’t mind,” he said softly. _More than that – I really want to._

Victor was facing away from him. “I don’t know how. I might – I’ll be terrible at it. You’ll only hate me afterwards.”

Was it Yuuri’s imagination, or did Victor want this too? “I won’t hate you afterwards,” he promised and rose to his feet. “Just this once. Just to try. But only if _you_ want to…” He stood behind Victor and gently placed his hands on Victor’s arms.

Victor closed his eyes. “I want to,” he whispered.

Yuuri pressed his lips to Victor’s cheek. It was soft. Yuuri pressed a kiss to Victor’s other cheek. There was still a bit of distance between them, but Yuuri could feel the feat coming from Victor’s body.

He stepped away and around Victor so they were facing each other.

Victor’s eyes were still closed. He was so trusting, letting Yuuri do what he wanted without protest.

Yuuri wanted to kiss Victor’s mouth, but was it right? He’d only gotten permission to have sex with Victor, not to kiss him.

“Come,” Yuuri whispered. “Let’s go to my bedroom.” He wanted to go to Victor’s, but his own was the practical choice – he had everything they needed there.

Victor opened his eyes and nodded.

Yuuri took him by the hand and led him away.

The door to his room was open, but still he hesitated in the doorway. Was this a good idea?

“Of course it is!” his body insisted.

“I don’t know,” his heart told him.

But it was too late to turn back now. He stepped into his room, bringing Victor in behind him.

They released each other’s hands and Victor stood awkwardly, throwing sideways glances at the bed.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Yuuri offered, gesturing at his bed.

Victor lowered himself onto the bed slowly, as if afraid it was about to explode. He sat with his legs slightly apart and Yuuri found himself staring for several seconds before he remembered what he’d been about to do.

He crouched down on the floor and searched around under the bed.

“Um… did you drop something?” Victor asked.

Yuuri resisted the urge to laugh. “No, I need to get a few things.” He pulled another box out and climbed out. He sat up and rifled through the box’s contents, trying to decide what he would need.

“What is that?” Victor asked.

“Condoms,” Yuuri answered, raising a box with one hand, “and lube,” he added, raising a bottle in his other.

“Is that the um… what they rub onto each other?” Victor asked, his face all red.

“Yes.” Yuuri slid the box back under the bed and stood up. “And we’ll need to wear condoms for protection.” He saw the puzzled look on Victor’s face and added, “This is one of the reasons why I said that porn movies aren’t accurate.”

Victor watched Yuuri, waiting for some kind of instructions, or at least a hint at what he ought to do next. Was he supposed to take his clothes off now, or later? It must’ve been so easy for those actors – not only did they have lots of practice, but they also had a script they had to follow.

He wondered then just how detailed the script got. Did it tell them what to do step by step, or were they allowed to improvise?

Yuuri put the items he’d retrieved from the box off to one side and pulled his sweater off.

Right. They were doing this. This was happening and it was happening now. He was actually going to have sex with Yuuri. This wasn’t going to be another one of his dreams, this was _real_.

Or maybe he was still dreaming?

He clenched his fist and felt his fingers dig into his palm. This was _real_.

He felt panic rise in his chest. What if Yuuri hated it? What if he was _so bad_ that Yuuri decided to move out? They’d barely lived together for a week!

Yuuri pulled off his shirt and folded it over the chair where he’d already left his sweater.

Victor stared at Yuuri’s chest, all thoughts of Yuuri leaving forgotten. He could see Yuuri’s nipples now and he found himself unable to look away.

He missed the moment when Yuuri took his pants off and only realized a little late that Yuuri was fully naked before him now.

Victor swallowed and forced himself to meet Yuuri’s eye.

“You can look at all of me,” Yuuri told him.

Victor’s eyes shifted downwards just like the cameras in all those movies. Down, past Yuuri’s chin, his neck, his collarbone, those two beautiful nipples, his stomach and finally…

He couldn’t look away. He was staring and he couldn’t…

Victor swallowed. “You have very beautiful thighs,” he whispered, still unable to tear his eyes away from them.

Yuuri stepped closer and Victor realized that if he reached out, he’d be able to touch them.

He hadn’t meant to reach out, but as soon as the thought occurred to him, his hand moved as if on its own. First the tips of his fingers touched Yuuri’s skin, then the back of his hand. He stroked Yuuri, still unable to stop himself.

Yuuri gave a soft sigh.

The movies had mostly made everything look hot and wet, but he felt soft and warm instead.

He pulled his hand back and Yuuri stepped closer. Victor brought his knees together and Yuuri stood with his legs on either side of Victor’s.

“Do you want me to undress you, or would you rather do it yourself?” Yuuri asked in a whisper.

Victor’s heart beat fast. His face began to burn. In fact, most of him was beginning to feel as if someone had set his body on fire. He wondered if he’d melt. “I… don’t know…”

Yuuri’s hands circled around Victor’s waist and tugged upwards on his shirt. “Then let me help you.” He stopped and looked into Victor’s face. “Please tell me if you’re having second thoughts. I don’t want to force you into something you don’t want to do.”

Victor opened his mouth to argue that everything was fine when he realized that he’d clenched his hands into fists as if Yuuri was about to pull his teeth out. “Sorry… I…” He tried to relax. “I… I’m not sued to… being naked in front of someone else.”

“Oh.” Yuuri raised his hands and stepped back. “We don’t have to do this. Or,” he stepped forward and whispered, “You can keep your clothes on. I can stick my hand down your pants and touch you.”

Yuuri really was very considerate and kind to him. He’d always been. Victor thought of when the first time they’d held hands and that feeling of electricity that had followed. Maybe they could take this step by step.

He nodded. “Yes,” he whispered. “Please.”

Yuuri placed his palm gently on Victor’s stomach and let it slide down.

Victor’s breath came out in gasps. His face was burning again.

Yuuri’s hand stopped somewhere at the bottom of Victor’s stomach. “Are you ok?” he whispered. “Should I stop?”

Victor shook his head emphatically. “I’m fine.”

Yuuri’s hand dropped down. His fingers felt around for Victor’s underwear and then passed between it and Victor’s pants.

Victor shuddered. It was that good kind of shuddering again.

Yuuri rubbed his hand over Victor and Victor’s body moved in response.

“Ah!”

“Victor…” Yuuri whispered.

He thought of all those things the actors did to each other and compared it to what he and Yuuri were doing now.

Yuuri’s hand slid under him. His second hand rested on Victor’s shoulder.

They were just touching and nothing more. Technically, they weren’t exactly touching. Yuuri’s hand stopped moving, but it was still making Victor feel charged with electricity.

He stared into Yuuri’s face. His eyes were closed and his cheeks were flushed.

“Yuuri…” he whispered.

Yuuri opened his eyes and pulled his hand free, carefully slipping it out of Victor’s clothes. “How was that?” he asked in a low voice.

“I… I liked it,” Victor answered.

Yuuri smiled. He stepped away and Victor realized that he was preparing to go.

“Wait!” Victor pleaded, catching Yuuri’s hand, the same one that had just touched him, with both of his own. “Can you… can you touch me again, but …differently?”

Yuuri took one of Victor’s hands gently off himself. He turned it around, as if studying it. Then he raised it slowly to his mouth and pressed his lips against Victor’s palm.

“Yuuri…”

Yuuri opened his mouth and caught the tip of Victor’s index finger between his lips. He sucked gently.

Victor’s mind was overwhelmed with the image that haunted his dreams and he pushed his finger a little further into Yuuri’s mouth.

“I’ve always wanted to try…” Victor began hoarsely. He gestured with his free hand at his lap. Would Yuuri understand? What if he didn’t?

He could feel the desire building in him. Now. Victor wanted this _now_.

He undid the zipper of his pants and waited.

Yuuri released Victor’s hand and lowered himself onto his knees. “Do you want me to…?” he began, trailing off. His eyes were looking up into Victor’s face.

“Please…” he said in a voice that sounded nothing like his own.

Yuuri shifted Victor’s underwear down and out of his way. It struck Victor then that he still couldn’t think the word even though here that part of him was – out in the open.

Yuuri passed his hand over it. “Are you sure?” He looked up into Victor’s face.

“Yes.” He braced himself.

“This isn’t hurting you, is it?”

Victor shook his head.

He felt Yuuri’s hand holding it up and then his mouth slid over it. Victor’s body shuddered again. Yuuri’s hands shifted to Victor’s thighs, keeping them apart just wide enough for his head to fit.

Victor clutched at the bed, as if afraid he was about to fall. Sweat trickled down his back and his breath came out in loud gasps. For a moment, he wasn’t aware of anything. He was flying above the world and then he was back in his own body again, feeling hot and wet, just like the movies showed.

Yuuri pulled away and fixed Victor’s clothes, taking great care not to hurt him.

He struggled for breath. He felt drained as if he’d spent the whole day practicing quads and doing nothing else. “I’m so tired…” he admitted between breaths. “I just sat here and now I’m tired. Isn’t that strange?”

Yuuri smiled. “It’s late. You should go to sleep.”

Lucky for him that he was on a bed already, wasn’t it?

He dropped onto his back and Yuuri shifted him carefully towards the pillow. His eyelids felt so heavy. He turned onto his side and his last thought before he drifted off was,

_Weren’t we in Yuuri’s room earlier?_

And sleep caught him in its arms.

Victor awoke with the feeling that someone’s arms were wrapped around him. He was on a comfortable bed and he didn’t want to go anywhere.

He opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. They weren’t foreign to him: he’d seen them before, but he felt as if he’d seen them only once or twice. He was used to waking up to be greeted by a different view.

Then it clicked. He was in Yuuri’s room! Those were Yuuri’s arms around him. Last night they’d… Better not think about that now.

He raised his arms and put his hands over Yuuri’s. He could feel Yuuri’s forehead pressing against the back of his neck. Their legs were joined in places, but the rest of Yuuri wasn’t that close.

He felt so comfortable. It didn’t matter that he’d slept in his clothes, or that he wasn’t covered by a blanket. This moment was perfect and he wanted it to go on forever.

He felt Yuuri stir. “Hmmm…”

“Good morning, Yuuri,” he whispered and a big grin spread over his face. How amazing was this?

“Good… morning…. What time is it?” Yuuri mumbled.

“No idea,” he whispered back and even this made him immensely happy. Ah! To be able to do this every morning!

Yuuri’s hands shifted a little. “You’re still in…” he trailed off. “Victor?” he whispered after a long pause.

“Yes?”

“We… uh… How are you feeling?”

“Good!” He clutched Yuuri’s hands to his chest. “This is the best morning of my life!”

In response, the alarm on Yuuri’s phone rang, making them both laugh.

They released each other and sat up side by side.

“Sorry we uh… didn’t get to do it properly,” Victor apologized, fiddling with his hands.

“Please don’t apologize!” Yuuri assured him. “I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable!”

Victor nodded absently. “It’s just that… I’m used to being on my own. I lived separately from my parents for a big part of my life. I was always told to rely on no one but myself. So I’m not good at admitting how I feel. I want to do all those things other people do, but I don’t know how and I’m terrified most of the time… I can’t even explain myself clearly at times. But you… I can be myself when I’m with you.” He met Yuuri’s eye and saw water glistening on his cheek. “You’re crying!”

“I never thought… I always forget…” Yuuri clung on to Victor, burying his face in Victor’s chest.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry…” He’d really messed up now! Where was that warm and happy feeling he’d enjoyed before? Why was he so bad at this? “Sorry… I just wanted to say that I really liked waking up next to you. I’ve never done this before.”

Yuuri raised his head. His cheeks and eyelashes were still wet. His eyes were filled with water, but he smiled. “Then let’s sleep beside each other from now on. Forget sex, if it makes you uncomfortable. Let’s do what you like.”

The corners of Victor’s mouth rose. “Thank you.” He enveloped Yuuri in his arms, feeling tears rolling down his own cheeks.

Despite all the tears, the breakfast that followed that conversation was magnificent.

Yuuri was getting ready for another day of training. His body was here, in the change room, but his mind was back there in the apartment with Victor.

What was wrong with him? How could he have forgotten how hard all this was for Victor? Why was he chasing him like this? Was he really so set on having sex with him that he’d forgotten to consider his best friend’s feelings?

He rested his forehead against the locker and gave a heavy sigh. Tears poured down his face again. He had to take it slow with Victor. He had to wait for Victor to make a move.

His heart tugged at him, aching in his chest. The pain was almost too much to bear.

_I love him,_ Yuuri thought in a moment of sudden clarity. _Dear god, I love him! I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone else before. But what do I do now? I can’t confess! I don’t want my feelings to interfere with his. I want him to be honest with me. I don’t want to hear him say what he thinks I want to hear._

He almost laughed at himself and his clumsy attempts to seduce Victor.

“Morning, Yuuri!” Phichit’s voice rang out, derailing Yuuri’s thoughts and sending them spiraling in another direction. “How are you? How is Victor?”

He straightened up. He was sick of all the hints and goading. He was sick of all the jokes and innuendo. He hated how everyone knew about him and Victor and used every chance they got to make some kind of comment. “We’re both fine,” he replied coolly.

“He’s _very_ fine, you mean,” Phichit corrected in a tone of voice that was much more suggestive than the words had been.

Yuuri rounded on him. “Stop it! Just stop! You understand nothing about me and Victor!” he snapped. “Nothing! Alright? So I don’t want to hear any more of this “have you had sex with him yet?” nonsense! I’m sick of all the suggestive comments and gestures! It’s our business and none of yours, so just leave it alone!”

“Yuuri, I didn’t realize –”

“No,” Yuuri cut him off. “You clearly didn’t, so I’m telling you now. If you want to continue being my friend, then stop it! If I want to share something, I’ll let you know!”

“Alright,” Phichit raised his hands in defeat. “I didn’t think you’d react like that. I thought…”

But Yuuri didn’t stay to listen to what Phichit thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How could I resist the temptation to stick in a reference to [Pinning and Pining](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14947100/chapters/34634015)?


	10. Kissing

Evening fell over St. Petersburg. Yuuri and Victor’s things were already packed for their short trip to the European Championships. They had tickets and accommodation. All that was left was to wait.

Yuuri felt a little nervous. It had been a very long time since he’d left the country. They would only get a few days, but it was still something.

As Yuuri washed the last dish, he threw a glance at Victor and thought about what they ought to do now. He was convinced that watching another movie was a bad idea, so what else was there?

He dried his hands and placed one on Victor’s shoulder. “Dance with me,” he whispered. “Forget trying to learn all those steps. Let’s pick a song and just dance to it.”

“Ok,” Victor nodded. He pulled out his phone and put some music on.

Yuuri took the phone out of his hand and set it down gently on the table. Then he put both hands on Victor’s shoulders. Victor placed his own hands on Yuuri’s waist. The music was slow and so they just moved around, swaying a little.

Yuuri pressed his cheek against Victor’s. “I’m a little nervous about the trip,” he confessed in a whisper.

“Don’t be.” Victor’s hands trailed up to Yuuri’s back.

Yuuri closed his eyes. “You’re used to this,” he whispered. “I haven’t left the country in a long time.”

“It’s not very hard,” Victor assured him. “You just show up at the airport with your things and answer their questions.”

Yuuri made a non-committal noise. He wasn’t going to explain to Victor that the idea of being questioned was troubling him. What if he said the wrong thing? What if he didn’t have all the necessary documents? He and Victor had gone to a lot of effort to get Yuuri a visa for travelling to Europe. So much effort, in fact, that he’d started to regret the promise he’d made to Victor, not because he’d gotten tired of filling out forms, but because he’d put Victor to so much trouble.

For a long time, neither of them said anything.

The slow tune ended and they stood in the middle of the room, as if unable to think of what to do next.

A different song began to play and then a voice from decades ago joined in, _“When marimba rhythms start to play dance with me, make me sway. Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore hold me close, sway me more.”_

Victor led and Yuuri followed. They moved back and forth, getting closer and then further away. A smile appeared on Victor’s face and Yuuri felt the tension drain from his own shoulders. He forgot about his fears, forgot about worrying about getting the dance right and just moved.

Step, step…

_“Other dancers may be on the floor,_

_Dear, but my eyes will see only you,_

_Only you have the magic technique._

_When we sway I go weak.”_

Yuuri’s knees weakened under him. Their chests were pressed close together as the dance continued. And then Yuuri noticed that Victor was singing along under his breath.

The music spun and – on a whim – Yuuri twirled Victor, caught him under his back and dipped him. His whole body followed down after Victor.

 _What am I doing?_ he wondered as his mouth came close to Victor’s. He straightened up, taking Victor with him.

Victor laughed. “That was… ah!”

 _Perfect,_ Yuuri thought.

“Amazing!” Victor finished. His eyes sparkled with joy.

It took all of Yuuri’s self-control to keep from grabbing Victor and kissing him as hard as he could.

“Can you… can we do that again?” Victor asked, putting his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders. His fingers trailed over Yuuri.

Yuuri took Victor’s hands with both of his own and moved to the music.

_“I can hear the sounds of violins_

_Long before it begins._

_Make me thrill as only you know how._

_Sway me smooth, sway me now.”_

He twirled and dipped Victor a second time just as Victor’s arms entwined themselves around Yuuri’s neck. Their faces were so close. He could feel Victor’s breath on his cheek.

“Yuuri…” Victor whispered.

He pressed his cheek against Victor’s, hoping this would keep him from kissing the man.

“Yuuri…” Victor sounded breathless and excited.

“Should we do that again?” Yuuri asked in a low voice.

Victor clutched him close. “I… uh… yes…” He released Yuuri.

They stepped away from each other.

Yuuri felt sweat trickling down his back. He pulled off his sweater and tossed it over the back of one of the chairs. He was just in a short-sleeved shirt now.

“It’s getting too warm in here, isn’t it?” Victor observed and he removed his own sweater as well.

The song ended.

They both stared at Victor’s phone expectantly, suddenly remembering that the music had to come from somewhere. But the next song didn’t sound right and Yuuri felt disappointment rise in his chest. He couldn’t dance passionately to a song like this!

“I’ll put something else on,” Victor volunteered. He picked his phone up, picked something out, hit play and placed the phone back where it had been.

The first stanzas of the tango from Victor’s free skate filled the room.

Yuuri circled Victor, not taking his eyes off him. If Victor wanted a tango, he would get one. He stepped closer to Victor and closer still.

Victor waited. He lowered his eyes and moved his shoulders, rolling them as he always did in the beginning of his skate.

Yuuri circled around Victor, letting their backs slide against each other. He turned and his chest pressed against Victor’s back. He put one hand on Victor’s chest and let it slide down. His hand stopped over Victor’s stomach.

Victor let out a low breath and put his hand hesitantly over Yuuri’s.

Yuuri’s head was above Victor’s shoulder now. His lips grazed against Victor’s cheek.

Victor turned his face away.

It wasn’t really a dance. They didn’t move to the music. There was no swaying and none of those complicated steps from that video that Victor had found.

There was only that closeness. The touch of Yuuri’s hand on Victor’s chest, the feel of his heartbeat through his shirt and the smell of Victor that Yuuri had gotten used to. He hadn’t even noticed when his hand had moved up from Victor’s stomach. He did remember for a long time afterwards how long he’d hesitated before placing his other hand on Victor’s arm between the end of his sleeve and the crook of his elbow.

Victor shuddered as if Yuuri had electrified him, but he made no sound.

Yuuri let his thumb rub gently against Victor’s bare skin. His mouth was dangerously close to Victor’s neck.

“Victor…” he whispered and regretted it as soon as he saw how the sound made the man shudder.

“Yuuri…” he sounded weak, as if there was a battle going on and he was losing it.

He could plant kisses on this neck and behind Victor’s ear. He could catch the man’s mouth with his own and kiss as hard as he could while leading Victor to his bedroom. He could…

But he didn’t. Instead, he let Victor go and stepped away. “It’s getting late. We need to get up early tomorrow.”

Victor turned around. His cheeks were still red. He caught Yuuri by the arms and looked into his eyes. “Sleep with me,” he said, “please.”

Coming from anyone else, the request would’ve carried a completely different meaning, but Victor meant it literally.

“Of course,” Yuuri said. He put on a smile and acted as if everything was just fine. Victor didn’t need to know how hard Yuuri’s heart was beating in this moment or what he thought about at the sound of the word “sleep”.

They took turns using the bathroom. Victor went first and when Yuuri came out he found the man waiting for him in front of the door, dressed in his pajamas. “Let’s stay in my room this time,” he suggested.

This time. As if this was something regular now. He had promised that this would be a regular thing for them, but this was only the second time, after all.

“Alright,” he agreed.

He followed Victor into his room where he watched Victor toss the blankets out of his way and settle down on the bed. He only hesitated for a moment before joining Victor under the blankets.

“Turn over onto your side,” Yuuri told Victor, “with your back to me, I mean.”

“Oh, right.” Victor turned over.

Yuuri folded his arms around the man. “Are you comfortable like this?”

“Yes. What about you?” The question caught Yuuri by surprise.

“Me too,” he lied. He wasn’t about to confess to what was going through his mind.

“Good night, Yuuri.”

“Good night.” He wanted to pull Victor closer so they could rest against each other, but he knew this was a bad idea. He wasn’t sure if Victor wanted this and he wasn’t sure what stupid thing he would do himself if he allowed himself to come close to Victor.

This would have to do for now.

As it turned out, Victor was right – travelling wasn’t all that difficult. Sure, it included lots of checks, but mostly it involved lots and lots of waiting, enough to try anyone’s patience.

After a lot of lineups they were finally allowed to get on the plane. Then it was only a matter of flying for a few hours and, just like that, they were in a different country.

“Welcome to Austria,” one of the flight attendants said over the passenger announcement system. “The local time is 17:03.”

Yuuri peered out through the window at the snowy fields. Was it really a different country out there? It was so hard to believe it! And, yet, the crew and everyone around them went on as if it was.

They got off the plane and Yuuri soon discovered that all of the signs were in German and English – two languages he couldn’t speak at all. Of course, the signs would be in other languages! He felt foolish for not having thought of that earlier.

“Follow me,” Victor said, noticing his nervousness.

Walking through the airport made Yuuri feel as if he was stuck in a crowded labyrinth, but he followed Victor without saying a word, clutching his hand tightly the whole way.

At last, they got to a train that would take them to the centre of the city.

“Where is your coach?” Yuuri asked, suddenly remembering about Yakov.

“He flew here yesterday,” Victor told him. “The junior competitions are a day earlier than the senior ones.”

Yuuri stood close to Victor, holding on to his arm as the train hurtled through a tunnel. “You never finished telling me about figure skating,” he reminded Victor in a low voice.

“Didn’t I?” Victor looked genuinely surprised. “Do you remember where I left off last time?”

“Not really.” Yuuri adjusted Victor’s clothes. “Why don’t you start by explaining the difference between juniors and seniors?”

“Didn’t I mention it last time?” Victor saw Yuuri shake his head and gave a soft laugh before launching into an explanation.

Yuuri listened, soothed by the sound of Victor’s voice. One day he would find the courage to confess his feelings to Victor, but until that day came, he would be happy with moments like this.

“Ah! I thought I heard a familiar voice!” someone exclaimed, making Yuuri turn and curse that someone dared to interrupt their moment.

The man before him looked familiar and it took several seconds for Yuuri to remember where he’d seen that face before. Then it came to him – the party on New Year’s Eve, the dancing and the jealousy. It was Chris, Victor’s friend. Yuuri almost laughed at the fact that he’d forgotten what his assumed rival looked like.

He knew there was no reason to be jealous, but couldn’t keep himself from wrapping one arm around Victor’s waist.

“Good evening, Chris!” Victor exclaimed. “I didn’t think I’d stumble into you here!”

Chris laughed. “I boarded the wrong train and ended up going to the Vienna airport instead of the city itself. But I’m not too bothered.” He shrugged. “I got to run into you two.”

Yuuri tried to tell himself that Chris was just being friendly, but the memory of how jealous he’d been returned in full force. He hoped his smile was convincing, but suspected that it looked more like a grimace.

Victor had no such qualms, of course, and soon he and Chris fell to chatting casually about whatever came to their minds.

Chris was very good at pulling Victor out of his shell. He teased and joked, coming dangerously close to flirting.

Jealousy stung hard. Yuuri couldn’t help it anymore. Reasoning with himself wasn’t working and he didn’t know what would.

“That friend of yours,” Chris said, suddenly addressing Yuuri, “he didn’t come with you, by any chance?”

“No,” Yuuri answered dryly. “He’s performing tonight.”

Chris had a wistful look on his face. “That’s a shame. I really enjoyed his company.”

 _Or so I heard,_ Yuuri thought.

“Did he say anything about me?” Chris asked,

 _Only that he slept with you,_ Yuuri thought. _And possibly that you were very good in bed. I can’t really remember._ Then he had a brilliant idea: what if Phichit went out with Chris? It would keep both of them out of his and Victor’s relationship – friendship – whatever it was.

“He said he hoped to see you again,” Yuuri lied. He was fairly certain Phichit hadn’t said that. And, even if he had, he had ways of getting in touch with anyone who interested him. Clearly this hadn’t happened in this case.

“Did he really?” A satisfied smile appeared on Chris’ face. “Maybe I’ll come visit Victor sometime, then.” He eyed Victor, his gaze lingering on where Yuuri was still holding on to him.

Yuuri met his eye with a challenging stare. _I don’t care if you can see that I’m jealous,_ Yuuri’s gaze said. There was that feeling again when he suspected that he was about to say something stupid.

Luckily for Yuuri, the train pulled into the central station before he could say or do anything he would regret.

They descended with their suitcases. Victor reached out to help Yuuri and Yuuri accepted his hand, feeling like he was falling. _I_ am _falling_ , he told himself, _and I can’t do a think about it. I just hope my falling remains metaphorical and not literal._

They held hands the whole way and Yuuri found that suddenly he didn’t mind that Chris was staying in the same hotel as them.

They checked in at the same time as Chris. When Victor turned to Yuuri to ask, “Do you want separate beds?” Yuuri enjoyed the moment when he smiled and said, “I’d rather share with you.” It was just a shame that Chris didn’t seem to hear him.

They got their room keys and went up in the elevator together. Chris had to get out a floor earlier than they did, giving them several minutes alone.

Yuuri fidgeted, wondering if his jealousy was obvious to Victor, but Victor didn’t say anything that could let him determine one way or another.

 _It must be very obvious_ , Yuuri decided and cursed himself.

Morning dawned. Victor opened his eyes and was greeted by the sight of Yuuri’s sleeping face. He looked so at peace that Victor suppressed the urge to reach out and touch him, afraid that the action would wake Yuuri up.

And then his alarm rang and woke Yuuri up anyway.

He made a gentle sound and turned over. “Five more minutes…” he whispered.

Victor sat up. This was true happiness: this moment right now when he got to witness Yuuri refusing to wake up. “You don’t have to get up,” Victor assured him in a whisper. “I have to go to practice, but you can sleep in a little longer.”

Yuuri turned over to face him and opened his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am.” He smiled. “Get some rest. Take a walk and then come watch me compete.”

Yuuri’s face spread in a sleepy smile. “That sounds wonderful!”

Victor bent over him and kissed his forehead. He pulled away hastily, exclaiming, “Ah! I’m so sorry! I didn’t…I don’t know what came over me!”

Yuuri continued to smile. “Do that again,” he whispered and closed his eyes. “Please.”

Victor bent over him and gently brushed his hair aside before pressing his lips to Yuuri’s forehead.

“I’ll miss you,” Yuuri confessed.

Victor pulled away. “Me too,” he confessed and slipped out of the bed.

Practice was scheduled for that morning, after which the skaters got a two hour break before the competition began. Before he met Yuuri, Victor hadn’t minded when there wasn’t a lot of time between practice and the competition, but now he found himself wishing they’d given them more time. Two hours was neither here nor there. He had to be there early before every competition, but two hours of time between practicing and actually competing meant that by the time he took his skates off and changed he’d have about twenty minutes before he had to go back again.

This was why he didn’t make his plans to meet up with Yuuri before competing. It was also why he found himself spending time with Chris once again.

Chris was curious to know more about Yuuri’s friend (Phichit, Victor reminded himself) and Victor had to answer a lot of questions, most of which he couldn’t find an answer for.

Naturally, Chris was very dissatisfied with the limited information he got and didn’t hesitate to tell Victor as much.

“Why don’t you ask him directly?” Victor suggested, feeling his patience begin to run out.

“Ask him directly? Who do you take me for?” Chris laughed. “No, I can’t do something as foolish as that! What will he think if I ask him directly? Besides, I know this is a one-time thing for him.”

This declaration caught Victor by surprise. One-time thing? What did that mean? They’d just danced together, hadn’t they? Did a dance count as a date, or some sort of “one time”? Chris was clearly very interested in Phichit, even if he wasn’t going to admit it.

“I don’t think you can say that,” Victor countered. “How can you know what he thinks? For instance, I can never guess what other people are thinking.”

Chris gave him a lopsided smile. “That, Victor, is because you have a very different view of the world from most people.”

“You mean a very limited one,” Victor said, feeling his face flush with a mix of embarrassment and anger. He gave himself several seconds to calm down before continuing to speak. “I’m sure it is. I never said that I know everything, or experienced all there is, but there are times when that isn’t important.”

He didn’t like the smile that crossed Chris’ face as soon as he finished talking. It made him feel as if Chris was laughing at him. Was this why the man wanted to be friends with him? To get a laugh out of it?

“I may have a limited world view, but I can tell when someone is laughing at me,” he said pointedly. “Maybe having a lot of boyfriends and knowing how to say things with a hidden meaning isn’t enough.” He thought of Yuuri. His confession of having dated many different people had come as a shock for Victor.

But then, he thought, it didn’t change his opinion of Yuuri, so what did it matter how many others he dated”? Sure, he’d grown up thinking that people fell in love once and committed to that person completely, but everyone else seemed to be convinced that this wasn’t the case and there was nothing wrong with that.

“I didn’t mean limited,” Chris corrected. He studied Victor’s face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I only meant that talking with you made me realize that you have a point of view that’s different from the one I’m used to.”

Victor nodded. A part of him remained unconvinced, but he wasn’t about to spend his free time arguing with the only friend he’d made.

Chris elbowed him lightly. “So how is Yuuri doing? You haven’t said anything about him. You haven’t had a fight, have you?”

“What? No, no,” Victor assured him. His expression cleared at the mention of Yuuri’s name. “Yuuri is alright. I wish we could’ve met now.” He stared at his hands as he clutched them, “but I know that I’ll definitely see him later, so it’s alright.”

“Alright?” Chris echoed. Then he cleared his throat. “Sorry. I mean – I can understand wanting to spend every minute of every day with someone, but sometimes you should be apart too, right? It’s healthier that way.”

Victor stared at Chris. “Healthier?”

“Yeah. As great as someone is, you want to spend some time away from them sometimes,” Chris explained. “Otherwise you get too attached and you don’t know how to exist without them around.”

 _I don’t know what I’d do if Yuuri left me,_ Victor thought, alarmed by the idea and then he voiced it aloud, “I think it’s too late for that,” he admitted in a low voice.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Chris argued. “You decided to stay here for two hours.”

Victor had to concede that this was true.

“So…” Chris began after a long pause, “do you think you could get me Phichit’s number?”

Victor stood at the boards, trying to listen to Yakov and unable to stop wishing that the rules allowed Yuuri to be here with him too.

Still, the audience wasn’t the faceless mass it usually was because he knew that Yuuri had to be somewhere among them. Yuuri was here, watching him skate and that had to count for something.

“Go, Victor,” Yakov ordered in a voice louder than before. “Go and skate better than you did last time!”

Victor was off across the ice without thinking. How long had he done this for? How long had he been doing what he’d been told by adults in authority? He thought of Chris’ words about depending on someone and wondered if the same applied to adults. What would he do if they stopped telling him what to do?

He stopped and assumed his initial position.

Yuuri never told him what to do. Yuuri gave suggestions and let Victor make his choice.

The music began and Victor turned around on the spot.

He could live with having different options and choosing among them.

His head was full of Yuuri, sweet Yuuri who continued to take care of him, despite all the challenges they’d faced. He remembered Yuuri as he’d been that morning – sleepy and unable to climb out of bed. And then he thought of Yuuri as he’d first seen him – the dancer on the stage, completely beyond his reach.

He knew now that his short program had been born from a secret desire to dance with Yuuri and he poured that feeling into every element.

The music ended and he stood with his arms raised, smiling up at the audience.

 _I dedicate this routine to you,_ Victor thought _, I hope you understand this, Yuuri._

He’d poured so much feeling into his skate that it came as a big disappointment when his scores were posted and he ended up with fewer points than last time.

 _Did I do something wrong?_ He looked at his coach, hoping the man would have an explanation for him.

Yakov smiled. “You’ve raised everyone’s expectations of you.”

Victor’s thoughts leapt immediately to what Yuuri would think. Had he also expected more form Victor’s skate?

Getting first place after that felt like less than what he’d gotten before, even though, as always, he won with a big lead.

Still, he walked away from the change room with a heavy heart.

The corridor was still quite full of people. Most of them were headed for the exit and only one stood still, among them, as if he was quite content to remain here forever.

Victor’s eye swept over the figure in the short leather jacket and tight leather pants and he felt his heart stop. The man turned his head and revealed himself to be Yuuri.

Victor’s feet shook under him, but he ran as fast as he could, desperate to be reunited with Yuuri at last.

“Victor!” Yuuri exclaimed.

Oh god, he was wearing that tank top that left his midriff bare! Oh god! Victor wasn’t going to make it! He will pass out before he was with Yuuri, pass out and never reunite with Yuuri.

Somehow he made it and halted right in front of Yuuri.

“Victor! That was amazing! Your skate was incredible!” he burst out, but Victor wasn’t in the right frame of mind to appreciate the praise Yuuri was giving him.

“Yuuri, can... can I faint into your arms, please?” The words were out before he could stop them.

“Are you alright?” Yuuri asked with a worried look.

“Yes, I just… just need to faint for a few minutes,” Victor assured him.

Yuuri held out his arms and Victor dropped into them. He felt Yuuri’s arms catch him and hold him up.

He closed his eyes and let himself take in the moment. He remembered all those times he’d watched Yuuri pick one of the ballerinas up. Now he could imagine himself in their place. He never wanted to come down.

But he had to. With a great effort, he opened his eyes and whispered, “Thank you.” He then tried to rise to his feet, but felt them tremble under him as soon as he was out of Yuuri’s arms. Yuuri had to catch him several times to keep him from hitting the ground.

“Sorry… sorry! I…” Victor met Yuuri’s eye and gave a little sigh. “That felt really nice.” He let his eyes trail down to Yuuri’s midriff and back up again. “You look very… um… nice.” _It’s_ hot _._ _He looks very hot!_ _Why can’t I say it properly?_

“Thank you,” Yuuri replied. “I was thinking – since you only have a practice session tomorrow, maybe we could go for an ice cream and then go dancing?” He gave Victor a sad look as he added, “I barely got to spent any time with you at all today.”

“Ice cream and dancing sound wonderful!” Victor agreed. He took Yuuri’s hand and added, “There must be a place in the city centre where we can have good ice cream!”

As it turned out, there was more than one place. They picked a café all in soft pastel tones and ordered two different flavours before claiming a table.

Victor watched Yuuri go pick up their order and set the two ice creams down on the table before slipping his jacket off and tossing it over the back of his chair. His arms were bare now.

Victor waited for Yuuri to sit down and shifted closer. He watched in fascination how the muscles in Yuuri’s arms moved as he picked up his ice cream.

Yuuri’s mouth closed over his ice cream and Victor felt his own mouth open slightly.

“Hmm! This is really good!” Yuuri exclaimed. “Do you want to try some?” He held the ice cream out to Victor.

Victor used this as his excuse to get closer to Yuuri. He let his arm brush against Yuuri’s ever so slightly as he leaned forward to lick his ice cream.

When he raised his head he became very conscious of how close Yuuri’s face was. His eyes lingered on the curve of Yuuri’s mouth for a long time before he managed to tear his gaze away, terrified of all the thoughts that rose in his mind.

Had they really given him ice cream? He was burning up!

“Is your flavour better?” Yuuri asked.

“Do you want to try it?” He offered, holding it out to Yuuri.

He wasn’t prepared for the sight of Yuuri licking the ice cream with half-closed eyes, the “mmm!” that followed or the way Yuuri’s eyes dug into his as he made the noise of appreciation.

He would’ve thought nothing of it before. It would’ve just been Yuuri enjoying his ice cream, but he’d seen those movies and he’d heard the way the actors had talked about licking and he knew now what it all meant. He broke out into a cold sweat as his mind filled with images of Yuuri licking his… him…

Why, oh why did he ever think that watching porn was a good idea? Sometimes it really _was_ better not to know!

Yuuri moved his chair closer. “Can you put your arm around me, please?” he whispered.

A shudder passed over Victor’s skin. He wondered then what sort of porn movie his life with Yuuri would make.

 _No, stop it!_ he told himself. _Stop! Yuuri is my friend_

His arm circled around Yuuri, resting on the back of his chair and not daring to come closer.

Yuuri finished his ice cream and put his head on Victor’s shoulder. “Are you tired?” he whispered.

Victor swallowed down the remainder of his ice cream. “No…” His voice squeaked and he coloured with embarrassment. “No,” he repeated in a clear and strong voice.

“Then let’s dance until it gets really late,” Yuuri offered. “What do you say?”

Everything around them was either pastel pink or blue. Victor noticed the couple at the next table over press their mouths against each other and kiss at if it was the last thing they’d ever do. A slow, romantic tune played over the speakers

 _I wish we were out on a date,_ he suddenly thought. _I wish we were desperately in love with each other._

His left hand was resting on the table. Yuuri reached out with his right and slid it over Victor’s.

Victor’s heart was beating fast. “Yuuri…” he began. What should he say? He didn’t know.

“Let’s go,” Yuuri said in a low voice. He pulled himself away from Victor and sat up. “Let’s go?” he repeated in a louder voice.

Victor nodded.

Yuuri pulled his jacket on and they left in search of a place for dancing.

It took them a long time to find what they were looking for, but the night was warm and they had each other for company. In fact, they probably spent so long looking because they distracted each other so much. Yuuri’s hand was warm in Victor’s, there was a smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. And everything was right with the world.

At last, they spotted a bright neon sign that pointed them to the right place.

As soon as they entered Victor became aware of how hot it was in the place and how many people there were here. This was nothing like his and Yuuri’s dancing late in the evenings!

Yuuri slipped his jacket off and hung it up next to Victor’s coat and they joined the crowd.

There would be no talking here: the music was so loud it deafened him. To call it music was generous, he thought. It was nothing more than a dull, repetitive beat that everyone moved to. It made him think of the New Year’s party and that memory brought his attention back to Yuuri.

Yuuri said something and motioned at the dancefloor.

Victor nodded and took Yuuri’s hand.

Yuuri led them in the direction of the crowd and turned around to face Victor. They put their arms around each other and Victor felt a thrill at the thought that they did it without stopping to think. The action came naturally to them, as if it was completely ordinary that they should hold each other like this.

Yuuri turned around with Victor’s hands still on him and moved against Victor.

The beat pounded against Victor’s ears and then his brain made sense of the lyrics.

_Don’t be so quick to walk away (Dance with me)!_

_I wanna rock your body, please stay (Dance with me)!_

Victor’s hands were on Yuuri’s stomach as he struggled to move, feeling clumsy and awkward. Yuuri, on the other hand, moved with ease, as if he always danced here.

Yuuri smiled over his shoulder. He swung his hips and motioned at Victor to follow in his steps.

Maybe they looked ridiculous, but as Victor swung his hips along with Yuuri, he felt himself pas beyond caring. This was actually very fun!

Yuuri laughed. There was sweat on his face, but his eyes shone with more energy than Victor had ever seen from him before.

Victor realized with a shock that his hands had slipped up into Yuuri’s top without him noticing. He snatched them away and mumbled an apology that was lost in the loud pounding of the music.

Yuuri turned to face him. He stepped forward and Victor retreated, but Yuuri kept advancing.

Victor’s heart beat fast in his chest. Did Yuuri guess? Did he see the way a sudden thrill short up Victor’s spine?

Yuuri slid his hands over his own shirt, fixing Victor with a stare.

Yuuri’s hands stopped just where his nipples ought to be and he rolled his shoulders.

Victor stared with his mouth open. He was weak and ready to do anything Yuuri asked of him.

But Yuuri didn’t say anything. He just kept dancing as if this dance was all he ever wanted. Nothing else existed but Yuuri. He wasn’t conscious of the passage of time.

When the music stopped and everyone was told to go home, Victor was prepared to swear that it had only been a few minutes since they’d arrived. He didn’t protest, however. He merely followed Yuuri to where they’d left their jackets and helped Yuuri into his jacket without another word.

Yuuri slipped his arms into the sleeves and turned with a warm smile. “Thank you,” he whispered and kissed Victor on the cheek.

Victor put an arm around Yuuri and held him close. “No, I should be the one saying thank you,” he countered. “Thank you for taking me here.”

Yuuri turned around fully and took Victor’s face with both hands. “As long as it makes you happy,” he said and pulled his fingers through Victor’s hair.

Victor’s eyes closed on their own and he drew in a slow breath. This moment felt so good. He wanted to breathe this moment in, take in every sensation and commit it forever to memory. He wanted to bottle this moment up so he could pull it out of a drawer and breathe it in on bad days. He wanted...

Yuuri’s fingers were brushing over his skin now. “Sorry, Victor,” he said in a low voice, probably not meant for Victor to hear.

_For what?_

He didn’t dare to move or make the smallest sound. He was scared that if he did anything at all he would run this moment, break whatever was happening beyond repair.

Yuuri let out a slow sigh and his fingers slipped away. He stepped back. “It’s late,” he said in his normal voice. “Let’s go back to our hotel room.”

Even though they walked back together, Victor couldn’t shake the feeling that there was suddenly a lot of distance between them.

The long-time champion went out on the ice and the audience waited to see how he would surprise them this time.

Chris stepped out of the kiss and cry and came all the way up to the boards to watch.

Victor’s free skate was beautiful, but Chris kept waiting for Victor to show the passion behind the tango.

He saw Victor search the crowd for Yuuri as he circled the ice and smiled. Victor in love was always fun to watch.

The music began and something strange happened to Victor. It was as if he got replaced by someone else. He moved over the ice in a way that made Chris think that maybe a tango with one person was possible after all. He drew the eye in, making it hard to look away.

When he jumped something was just a little different about his face.

 _They’ll be falling over each other to try to get your attention, Victor._ Chris thought, _I’d be doing the same thing, if I don’t know you already had someone!_

His mind conjured up an image of Phichit, reminding him of a very pleasant New Year’s Day. He knew he will soon end up chasing after Phichit, but how wise was it? _Maybe I should stop,_ he thought in a moment of sudden clarity. _It was a one night stand and nothing more. What would he think of me if I showed up out of nowhere, asking for a date?_

 _He’d think I’m desperate for sex, that’s what,_ he answered himself.

But as he watched Victor skate with that honesty that no one else had but him, he found himself longing to see Phichit again. It had been _fun_. During their short time together he’d forgotten all the little worries that constantly preyed on his mind. Nothing had really mattered then and he’d even stopped thinking about his permanent status as the number two skater in the world.

 _I really need to just relax,_ he told himself.

But Victor’s skating was digging up memories he couldn’t ignore

Victor finished the audience exploded. He always got applause, of course, but lately it was mostly the polite kind, when people clapped because they knew they ought to, not because they wished to show their appreciation for something. This time things were different.

Victor stared up at the happy stands, his face full of astonishment. He bowed to the judges, then to the stands on the opposite side.

“Victor!” someone screamed and Chris thought he recognized Yuuri’s voice.

“Victor!” the stands picked up the cry. “Victor!”

He bowed another two times and waved at the crowd as he turned away and made for the exit.

This time Chris had no doubts that Victor would set another world record, so when the marks went up he wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

 _I’ll never get that much,_ he thought sadly. _You’re way ahead of all of us, Victor. Isn’t the universe going to send you a rival anytime soon?_ Then he smiled. _It did better than that – it sent you Yuuri._

He thought about the way Victor had waited patiently for two hours between the practice session and the short program and knew that Victor would be waiting in much the same way for the exhibit skate to start.

It was dung this exact wait that Chris found him, having shaken off the press at last.

Victor was sitting in the change room, texting someone and smiling at his phone. Chris knew without asking that Victor was messaging Yuuri. He slipped into the spot next to Victor and said as nonchalantly as he could, “So you slept with Yuuri, then?”

Victor raised his head. “Hello, Chris.” Then he frowned. “How did you know about that? Did Yuuri tell you?”

“No,” Chris almost laughed at such innocence. “Your skating told me.”

“It did?”

Chris waited for Victor to blush or deny it, but Victor seemed to accept this. It was a little unnerving. _Then again, this_ is _Victor and this must mean that he slept with Yuuri in the literal sense._

He remembered the way the two men had danced at the New Year’s party. No, it wasn’t possible for two people to dance like that and just sleep next to each other afterwards.

His mind kept circling around and coming back to that night and memories of Phichit. He cursed himself. He shouldn’t think about that man, he really shouldn’t.

“What’s wrong?” Victor asked.

“Nothing,” he lied. _Only that I’m feeling lonely and my brain seems to be convinced that the way to cure that is to see someone I’d only met once._

Victor studied him in silence. The man who was so often lost in his own world was analyzing Chris now. It was a little unnerving.

Finally he said, “Oh! I almost forgot! Yuuri gave me Phichit’s number. He said it’s ok if you text him and tell him that Yuuri gave it to you.”

“Thank you,” Chris pulled his phone out of his jacket and did his best to convince himself that Victor hadn’t guessed what was on his mind. It was just a coincidence. Of course it was.

Victor read the number out loud and then gave Chris a little smile. “Why don’t you text him now?”

This was all such a bad idea.

“I’ll do it later,” Chris said evasively. He pocketed his phone and acted as if that settled it.

“Are you sure? You sounded so keen earlier!” Victor was studying him really closely now.

Damn! He was giving himself away. “It’s fine,” Chris insisted, shrugging to make the lie more convincing. “I thought about it and I’m not sure it will come across in the right way.”

“Oh?” Victor looked really puzzled now. “Why not?”

“Well, because… When you get together with someone for one night, you don’t plan to see them again.” He tried to come up with an explanation that would make sense to Victor. “It’s like… bad manners.”

“It is?” Victor considered this information. “But why?”

Chris tried to think of a suitable explanation. “It’s a bit like… making a promise and then not keeping it.”

“But what if you want to see each other again?” Victor asked. “What if you change your mind and they change their mind and you want to meet again?”

Chris considered this. Yuuri _had_ told him that Phichit was interested in him hadn’t he? But maybe it was just him being polite. No, this was a bad idea. “I suppose it could happen,” he admitted to please Victor.

“Then, how would you know if he wants to see you again or not, if you don’t ask him?” Victor asked, sounding like one of those detectives who built a chain of logical conclusions until the criminal gave themselves away.

Chins nudged him with to his elbow. “Do you give out relationship advice now? What next? Sex tips?”

Victor’s eyes went wide. His face coloured and he turned away. “Why would I do that?” He gave a light cough.

Chris burst out laughing. “If you ever decide you want to, I want to be the first one to hear them.”

“So you can make fun of me in return?” Victor countered.

“It’s called teasing and you know I won’t be doing it to hurt your feelings!” Chris pointed out, but Victor remained unconvinced. He really was very sensitive, Chris decided. He allowed himself to tease Victor a little.

How did Yuuri go out with him? Or did he also tease Victor when they were alone? Probably in a different way, Chris thought with a smile.

When the time came for them to get ready to go out on the ice, Chris saw an expression of great relief cross Victor’s face.

Maybe he’d gone a little overboard.

He waited until the very last moment, until he was about to go out on the ice before pulling his phone out of his pocket and texting a short message to Phichit and then putting his phone away again.

 _Thinking of you,_ he wrote.

_I’m begging you not to._

_You always make me so breathless._

_How can I resist you?_

Victor watched Chris out on the ice, turning their conversation over and over in his head. He thought that, at least, he knew enough to understand what Chris was saying, but still the conversation had mystified him. The idea that people could meet up only once and have sex wasn’t new to him now, but it seemed so obvious to him that Chris wanted to see Phichit again that he couldn’t understand why he kept protesting that he wasn’t.

Besides, he was convinced that Chris wasn’t the type of person who would treat relationships in a casual way. He was the kind who would flirt with anyone, but he’d be very dedicated to one person, Victor was sure of it. He couldn’t explain why he felt this way. Had Chris said something to him about this? Not really. But, in some ways, he was similar to Yuuri and Victor remembered his confession all too well.

Yuuri had put his heart into those relationships and he was still hurt that they hadn’t amounted to anything. And something about Chris suggested much the same attitude. The way he talked about relationships, betrayed all that pain that lay hidden underneath.

Victor’s mind returned to thoughts about Yuuri. Yuuri, who’d done so much for him, Yuuri who was always there for him to rely on, Yuuri…

On the ice, Chris finished his routine. He bowed as the air filled with enthusiastic applause. He blew a big kiss to the audience and they responded with a happy cry.

It was Victor’s turn now.

This time his routine was a surprise. He’d practiced only parts of it the day before and all without music so as not to give it all away

Low, pounding music began to play and Victor stood, leaning on the boards, dressed the same way as Yuuri had at the New Year’s party.

He turned, as if he’d just noticed the audience and skated slowly out onto the ice.

That night had burned deep into his memory and he had no trouble recreating all the best details before the audience.

But only about halfway through he knew why he was doing this: he wanted Yuuri to know how important that night was to Victor.

He knew he couldn’t do Yuuri’s dancing justice. He couldn’t show how he’d felt when they’d touched. All he could do was to try his best and hope that it was enough.

His own words to Chris came back to him as he thought about Yuuri. He’d known deep down that he didn’t think of Yuuri just as a best friend.

 _I want Yuuri to be my boyfriend,_ he thought and it felt as if something that had been hidden below the surface for a long time was rising to the top at last.

The music ended. He turned to the part of the audience where he knew Yuuri’s seat was and beckoned with his finger before turning around and skating away as if he was walking off a stage.

His face was burning. Would Yuuri understand what his skate meant?

Yuuri hadn’t been prepared for the sight of Victor in his clothes. He hadn’t been prepared to see so much of Victor’s skin laid bare. The whole experience was like a dream: he sat in the dark as Victor, barely clothed moved out on the ice, beckoning Yuuri to come closer, daring Yuuri to touch him.

Yuuri felt his temperature rise. It was getting hard to breathe. He shifted back and forth in his seat.

Victor turned and, for a moment, Yuuri was prepared to swear that their eyes met. Victor beckoned Yuuri over with his finger, gave a little nod and turned around to strut away down the ice.

Yuuri couldn’t breathe.

The audience erupted into whistles and cheers. The air filled with declarations of their love for Victor.

Still Yuuri couldn’t move a muscle.

He couldn’t remember how he left his seat. All he could recall later was that staying in his spot had become pure agony and that he needed to be away somewhere.

He wandered out into the halls, walking aimlessly through the passages, unable to decide where to go, or what to do.

Who knows how much time passed before he spotted a familiar figure up ahead – Victor’s friend, Chris.

“Yuuri! Not enjoying the show?” he asked with a smile.

Yuuri felt a little foolish at this, but he refused to act as if he’d done something wrong. “No,” he replied in a way that he hoped would convey to Chris his reluctance to discuss the subject further.

Chris gave a slight shake of his head to show his disapproval. “I won’t tell the pair skaters, don’t worry. Do you want me to take you to Victor?”

Yuuri didn’t get a chance to reflect on the strange symmetry between his and Victor’s positions: how Phichit had done for Victor what Chris was offering to do for him before he answered, “Yes.”

“Then follow me.” He didn’t have to ask twice.

They found Victor in the change room, his Russian jacket thrown on over his costume. He greeted Yuuri with an expression of surprise on his face.

It was time for Yuuri to act. He gathered all his courage and walked up to Victor.

“You must be hungry,” Yuuri began. “Let’s go have dinner.”

Victor gave him a look he couldn’t read and then he transferred it to Chris. Was it Yuuri’s imagination, or was there a plea for help in Victor’s eyes?

Yakov was getting too old for this. Sure, he hadn’t reached the actual retirement age, but he had to face the truth and that truth was that he simply didn’t have enough strength left to chase after his pupils and give all of them his undivided attention.

He had just pulled two of his skaters apart, cutting into a fight before it could spiral out of control and now he was leading one of them by the arm as he went to check on his star pupil, who arguably needed his attention more than anyone else.

He found Victor in the change room, looking trapped between two men, one of whom turned out to be Christophe Giacometti – the skater who often won second place – and a young man Yakov didn’t recognize. There was a helpless look on Victor’s face and Yakov rushed in, worried he had come too late.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, turning on the stranger. “You shouldn’t be in here! Fans aren’t allowed in the change rooms!”

The young man opened his mouth, but Victor cut in before he could say anything.

“I invited Yuuri here!” he exclaimed and stepped up to the man to take his hand. “We were just making plans for dinner.”

Yakov hadn’t been prepared for such an emphatic outburst and, judging by the look on Victor’s face, neither was he. But he didn’t take his words back and stared at Yakov, as if daring his coach to argue with him.

Only then did Yakov notice how tightly Victor was holding on to the other man’s hand. _Oh._

“I was wrong to jump to conclusions,” Yakov said. “Sorry.”

It had been a long day for him but he wasn’t about to admit that, especially not with Georgi there to hear it.

He studied the young man with renewed interest.

His first glance had only given him a general impression of the young man’s appearance, but now he looked harder, trying to guess what lay below such an innocent exterior, but it was hard to see much. All Yakov could say with any certainty was that there was no arrogance in the man’s face.

“I’m Yuuri,” the young man said, throwing a quick glance at Victor. “It’s nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.

Yakov glanced at Victor, trying to figure out if this was some kind of prank or if Yuuri was being serious.

Victor was studying him in return with a look of worry on his face. This was important to Victor. He wanted Yakov to accept Yuuri.

Yakov clasped Yuuri’s hand with his own. “I’m Victor’s coach, Yakov Feltsman. You can call me Yakov.”

“A-alright.”

And then Yakov realized something that was so obvious that he was surprised that he’d missed it earlier: they were speaking Russian. Yuuri – whoever he was – spoke it without any accent at all.

 _Does this mean that he came here from Russia with you?_ He had no idea if such a question was appropriate and, so, he refrained from asking it.

“Let’s all have diner together,” he suggested. His eye fell on Christophe. “You can come too, if you like, Mr. Giacometti.”

The skater laughed. “Please call me Chris.”

All the tension in the air drained out at the sound of that man’s voice. Everyone let out a quiet breath.

Christophe – or Chris, if he was so determined – put his arms around Victor and Yuuri’s shoulders, “I hope you don’t mind the extra company,” he said with a smile.

“What about me?” Georgi pipped up.

Yakov resisted the urge to scowl. “You are free to choose where you want to go,” he said, putting a lot of effort to keep his frustration of out of his voice.

Georgi frowned as if he was considering a difficult question. “I have a date with Anya tonight,” he admitted at last.

“Then go,” Yakov said with a shrug and the skater hurried off, as if scared that his coach would change his mind.

Too late Yakov remembered that Georgi was a big gossip. All the figure skaters would soon learn all about their little dinner gathering, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He was also not about to point out that there was a banquet for the skaters to attend that night. Victor always avoided it anyway and Yakov was too interested in getting to know Yuuri better to attend it himself.

He’d failed his pupil. The least he could do now was to make sure that Victor hadn’t ended up trapped with someone who was using him in some way.

He did insist that they wait for the exhibition skate to end and they watched the last few routines on the screens together. Yakov had a word with several of his pupils and then returned to the group to let them know that he was ready to leave at last.

They picked out a small diner. As he’d expected, Chris way more interested in the wine list than the food. Yuuri and Victor, on the other hand poured over the menu together, pointing items out to each other and discussing each of them as if they were trying to decide what to make themselves.

There was a smile on Victor’s face again. He wasn’t just happy, he was completely at ease now. One of Yuuri’s arms circled around him and Victor seemed to revel in it. Yakov saw the care Yuuri took with Victor and found himself warming to the young man.

He asked for Victor’s opinion on every little matter. He’d offered the choice of a seat to Victor and when he’d made his choice, he’d pulled the chair out for him. By the time they finished their meal Yakov was convinced that Yuuri really cared for Victor. Of Victor’s feelings there couldn’t be any doubt, not when he’d seen the way Victor’s skating had changed over the course of this season.

“Your hair is starting to get long,” Yuuri said, brushing some of it behind Victor’s ear.

“I’ll get it cut soon,” Victor promised.

“I think it suits you.” Yuuri lowered his eyes, “but if it bothers you…”

“No, no! It doesn’t bother me at all!” Victor insisted.

Yakov had seen his pupils go through this kind of routine lots of times and normally it drove him insane just to hear a tiny portion of this kind of exchange. This time, however, was different. This time it was Victor, who’d never had a chance to experience something like this.

If his parents had been present, they would’ve, without a doubt, reprimanded Victor for this kind of behaviour, but they weren’t here. Even if they had been here, Yakov would’ve likely stood up for Victor’s right to enjoy himself a little.

Victor placed his head on Yuuri’s shoulder and closed his eyes. No one commented on this either.

Yakov beckoned a waiter over and paid for everyone’s dinner.

The others tried to protest, but he wouldn’t let them.

“What do we do now?” Yuuri whispered.

Chris shrugged.

“Let him rest a little,” Yakov said. “Victor can sleep through anything, so leave him to it for now. So let’s talk.”

“Talk?” For some reason, Yuuri looked frightened by the idea of talking.

“Yes,” Yakov confirmed with a nod. _Victor’s parents might not be around much, but I’m definitely still here to keep an eye on their son._ “How did you meet Victor?”

“He came to my ballet performances,” Yuuri told him. “Are you going to ask me if we’ve had sex next?”

The question caught Yakov off guard. He hadn’t expected Yuuri to speak about it so directly. “No,” he managed once he got over the shock, “What Victor does with others is none of my business.” He paused. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with his skating and as long as he consents to it.”

Yuuri said nothing to this.

Yakov hadn’t meant to antagonize the man, but he realized too late that this was precisely what he’d done. Yuuri probably saw him as nothing more than a nosy old man who wanted this pupils to spend all their time training. He didn’t know that Yakov was all for his pupils leading balanced lives – one where they trained and had time to send with their family and friends. Yakov knew that several of his pupils led what some people referred to as adventurous lives, but he only interfered if they started to miss practice.

“Look,” Yakov said after a brief pause, “I think it would be true to say that both you and I want what’s best for Victor. I want him to be happy. God knows, he’s got enough gold medals to satisfy three ambitious athletes.” He saw the way Chris’ eyebrows rose at this and nodded. “I mean it. Will you argue with me, Mr. Giacometti?”

“I dare not.” He gave a little laugh and then his expression turned grave. “I’d like to put in a good word for Yuuri, coach.”

Now it was Yuuri’s turn to look surprised. “Why?”

“Because I can see signs of your positive influence,” Chris told him.

 _So can I,_ Yakov thought, “Your good word isn’t required,” he countered. “First of all, because it’s Victor’s choice who his friends are and secondly because I can see signs of your positive influence myself, Yuuri.”

Yuuri continued to look surprised.

Yakov held out his hand. “I don’t think I’m mistaken when I say that were on the same side.”

Yuuri took the offered hand and a big smile spread over his face. “You’re right.” He really _was_ beautiful. It was no wonder Victor had fallen for this boy.

“Hmm? what?” Victor opened his eyes, waking up just in time. He stretched and only then did he seem to remember where he was. “Sorry for falling asleep,” he said, looking like someone who expected to be reprimanded for what he’d done.

 _Have I been too strict with him?_ Yakov wondered. “It’s going late,” he said. “It’s time to return to our hotel rooms. You can finish sleeping there.”

“Sorry, Yuuri,” he apologized again.

Yuuri rose to his feet. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s go back.” He held out his hands and pulled Victor to his feet.

“But what about the bill?” Victor asked with a frown.

“Already taken care of,” Yakov assured him.

“You paid for me, Yuuri?” Victor looked troubled by the idea and Yakov wondered if this was mere courtesy, or if there was some other reason. _Stop seeing what isn’t there,_ he told herself.

“No, Yakov paid for us,” Yuuri corrected Victor.

“Yakov....?”

“Come.” He was starting to lose his patience. He ushered them outside and they walked together down the street.

Yuuri slipped his arm around Victor’s. “I really liked your skate,” he said in a whisper. “It really surprised me.”

Victor’s face turned red. “I… I forgot all about it.”

“I never will,” Yuuri promised.

Yakov knew when he had to leave people alone and, by the looks of it, this was one of those times. Fortunately, they were almost at their hotel, which gave him the excuse he needed to leave the others.

Yes, Victor was in good hands, he told himself as he walked away.

The evening had gone well, Yuuri realized with some surprise as he went up in the elevator with Victor and Chris. He didn’t know what he’d expected to happen when he finally met Victor’s coach, but it went better than he’d expected. In the absence of Victor’s parents, Yakov played the role of Victor’s father.

Speaking of which, where _were_ Victor’s parents? Why hadn’t they come to a single one of Victor’s competitions? Why had they never dropped by to visit their son? They’d left Victor to deal with the world all by himself without troubling themselves to actually teach him anything. How could anyone do that?

“Have a good night!” Chris’ voice cut into Yuuri’s thoughts, bringing him back to the present.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped out.

“Good night!” Victor called out and Yuuri murmured the words too.

He was alone with Victor now. He had to do this.

They reached their floor and Victor stepped out first, followed closely by Yuuri. As they walked down the hall, he kept throwing glances at Yuuri, but each time Yuuri caught him looking, Victor would turn hastily away.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked.

“Nothing…” He looked away again.

But something evidently was because when Victor reached the door his hand trembled as he got his key out of his pocket.

“Victor?”

His hand dropped and he turned to face Yuuri. “Will you be my boyfriend?” he asked.

This was so far removed from what Yuuri had expected that the first word out of his mouth was, “What?”

“You don’t have to!” Victor exclaimed. “Just thought that maybe you wanted to?”

A smile spread over Yuuri’s face. “Of course I want to!” he exclaimed.

Victor visibly relaxed. “Really?”

“Really, really.” Yuuri put his arms around Victor and held him close.

“I was going to ask you the same thing tonight, but you beat me to it.”

He felt Victor’s heart beating, thumping as if they were holding it between the two of them. “That’s amazing,” Victor breathed out.

 _It’s about time,_ Yuuri thought. “Come,” he said, unlocking the door and holding it open for Victor. “It’s getting late.”

“As… as boyfriends don’t we have to kiss?” Victor asked.

The expression on Yuuri’s face froze as he considered his answered. “Only if you want to.”

“I want to,” Victor admitted in a whisper. “What about you, Yuuri?”

 _I want to… so much._ He gave a quick nod.

Victor closed his eyes and leaned forward. They were still in the doorway. All of Yuuri’s attention focused on Victor’s mouth, forgetting completely about this fact. He put one arm around Victor’s waist and slid his free hand down the side of Victor’s face. Victor joined his hands behind his back. Yuuri saw his eyelashes tremble and a faint blush spread over his cheeks.

_This is his first kiss…_

Something slammed into Yuuri, knocking him aside and startling him.

“Yuuri? Are you alright?”

He rubbed his arm and stared at the door, cursing himself for forgetting that he’d opened it earlier and hadn’t propped it up. “I’m fine. Let’s go inside.”

Victor held the door open for both of them. “It’s my fault,” he insisted. “I should’ve waited until we were inside.”

Yuuri didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. The curtains had been left open and a pale moonlight filled the room. “I have an idea,” he said.

He crossed the room and looked out. What luck! Not only did the room come with a balcony, but it also had two chairs.

He met Victor’s eye and beckoned the man to follow him as he opened the door to the balcony.

A question appeared in Victor’s eyes, but still he followed Yuuri out.

Yuuri motioned at the closest chair and Victor dropped into it without another word.

Yuuri leaned over Victor and pressed his lips against Victor’s. Victor’s arms wrapped around Yuuri’s neck and pulled him closer. Feeling on the verge of losing his balance, Yuuri placed both hands on the wall behind Victor and broke the kiss.

“Yuuri…” Victor’s eyes were still closed.

“We need to… It’s late…” Yuuri mumbled, his head spinning.

“Kiss me again,” Victor whispered, “and open your mouth this time. “Please?”

The pale moonlight fell over Victor’s face, lending his features a supernatural beauty. Yuuri thought of all those stories with fairies and magical spirits that seduced unsuspecting young men.

He learned forward carefully, his mouth hovering a few centimetres away from Victor’s.

“This can’t be very comfortable for you,” Victor whispered. “Sit on my lap. Please.”

Yuuri lowered herself sideways. He took Victor’s face with both hands and closed his eyes. His lips parted. His mouth slid over Victor’s. Yuuri felt himself melting against Victor. Victor’s tongue was in his mouth.

There was nothing else, but this, right here and right now. Victor kissing him in the moonlight. Victor’s soft mouth not letting Yuuri’s go. And kisses, kisses. Who needed air when they could have Victor’s kisses instead?

Yuuri shifted closer. At some point, he turned his body to face Victor and sat with his thighs on either side of Victor. He wanted to push the whole self against Victor and feel him react in return. He wanted…

“Yuuri…” Victor broke the kiss.

Yuuri slid away, terrified he’d done something wrong.

Victor unzipped his jacket and let it drop over the back of his chair. He was still in that top he’d worn for his exhibition skate.

Yuuri stared at Victor’s exposed midriff. “Aren’t… aren’t you cold?” he finally managed, forcing his eyes to meet Victor’s.

“Not if you kiss me again,” Victor told him. “And if you put one hand one hand on my back and one on my stomach. To keep me warm,” he added with a serious look on his face.

They stared at each other in silence for several moments and Victor burst out laughing. Yuuri laughed too, throwing his head back. He leaned forward and let his forehead touch Victor’s.

Carefully, he shifted one hand from the wall to Victor’s shoulder and then slid it down Victor’s back.

The laughter died on Victor’s lips and he took a sharp breath.

Yuuri’s hand slid down to where the top ended and Victor’s skin was exposed. Victor shuddered at his touch.

Yuuri drew in a slow breath, willing himself to remain calm.

He placed his second hand over the middle of Victor’s stomach and leaned forward for another kiss.

Victor’s mouth met his full on and Yuuri felt like he was falling again.

The hand he’d placed on Victor’s stomach shifted down a little. Then a little more. And a little more until, at last, it reached the top of Victor’s pants. One of Yuuri’s fingers slipped into them.

Victor shuddered. He shifted forward in the chair. His legs spread a little, pushing against Yuuri’s.

 _I can’t._ Yuuri snatched his hand away and broke the kiss.

“I want…” Victor whispered, sounding breathless.

Yuuri held his breath, waiting for the end of that sentence.

Victor’s hands were on Yuuri’s lower back. Yuuri unzipped his jacket and Victor’s hands slipped under it.

“I want…”

Victor’s hands were under Yuuri’s shirt now and came to a sudden stop on Yuuri’s bare skin.

“I…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life's been super hectic lately, so I can't update as often as I'd like... Sorry it takes so long between updates.


	11. Parents

Victor tried to form the words, but it was so hard to concentrate when Yuuri’s hands were all over him like this. He wanted to be touched. He wanted to feel Yuuri’s skin pressing against his own.

All kinds of desires were overwhelming him all at once. He looked into Yuuri’s eyes and another shudder passed over his skin. He’d never seen an expression like that on his face before.

Yuuri blinked and slid away. His face took on its usual innocent expression, as if nothing had happened between them. “It’s late,” he said. “We should go sleep.”

Had Yuuri understood what Victor wanted or…? He searched Yuuri’s eyes for the answer, but found nothing.

The moment had passed. He’d missed his chance.

Yuuri got up and Victor followed.

His head was spinning. He’d just been kissed for the first time in his life! Yuuri had agreed to be his boyfriend! He swayed on his feet.

Yuuri caught him. “Why don’t you shower first?” he suggested.

“No, no, you go first! Please!” he protested. “I still need to pack!”

“Alright,” Yuuri agreed, not sounding very convinced.

Ten minutes later Victor stood in the shower, watching the water stream down his body and thinking about Yuuri.

What did he want? More kisses, definitely! He closed his eyes and raised his head, feeling the droplets hitting his face. His mind was full of kisses.

An idea occurred to him then. He finished showering, turned the water off and stepped out of the bathtub.

He stood before the mirror and studied his reflection. The person in the mirror stared at him with a lost expression on his face.

He wrapped himself in a towel and looked back at his reflection. This was much better, but still the lost expression on his face remained.

He stepped out of the shower.

Yuuri turned his head and took Victor in.

Victor let the towel slip out of his hands and down onto the floor.

Yuuri sat bolt upright. His eyes drifted down and Victor felt his skin tingle under the man’s stare. Unlike Victor, Yuuri had no qualms about getting a good look at a naked body.

It was thrilling to stand so naked and to be so thoroughly studied. He wanted Yuuri to know him, all of him.

He sat down on the side of the bed and gave Yuuri a warm smile. “Touch me,” he whispered.

Yuuri slid over to him. He raised a hand. Victor turned to face him. Yuuri’s hand stopped, as if he was considering what to do next. Would he ask Victor to explain what he wanted? Would he just know?

Yuuri pressed his hand to Victor’s heart. Their eyes met. There was a question in Yuuri’s eyes and Victor nodded. Yuuri’s hand drifted upwards. His fingers followed the line of Victor’s collarbone out to his shoulder. He reached the end and moved back in. His index finger traced a line down the very middle of Victor’s chest. The finger went around in a big circle.

Victor swallowed. His nipple was in the middle of that circle.

Yuuri’s hand finished the circle, taking all eternity to do it. He let his finger drop down and pressed his palm over Victor’s stomach.

Victor tensed.

Yuuri’s finger reached Victor’s belly button and stopped. He pulled his hand away.

Victor breathed out.

Yuuri shifted closer and put his arms around Victor. His arms rose and Victor felt Yuuri’s hands rest over his shoulder blades.

“Yuuri…”

His eyes closed. His lips were slightly parted.

It would be so easy to fall now, to catch a kiss and drop down with Yuuri…

Yuuri’s head began to fall back onto the pillow and Victor followed. Halfway down their mouths joined, breaths mixing. Yuuri’s hands were still on Victor’s back, but Victor propped himself up on his elbows, not daring to lower himself further.

Yuuri broke the kiss and Victor raised his head.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the word got caught in his throat at the sight of Yuuri’s head resting on the pillow, his hair splayed out all around him.

“Victor,” Yuuri whispered. His legs slid over the bed as he pulled them in. His thighs slid against Victor’s and Victor realized with a shock that he was between Yuuri’s legs now.

“It’s getting late…” Yuuri murmured in a tone that sent shivers down Victor’s spine.

Victor sat up sharply. “Sorry!” he apologized, “We have to get up early tomorrow and I completely forgot!”

Yuuri sat up, stifling a laugh. “Do you want to put your pajamas on?”

This time the realization that he was naked made Victor colour brightly. “I… Can I go to sleep like this? Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” Yuuri rose to his feet and turned off the lights. He pulled the curtains closed most of the way, leaving just a bit open for the light to get in.

Victor settled down under the blanket and Yuuri soon joined him.

“Can I have a good night kiss?” Victor asked in a whisper.

Yuuri slid over closer and put his arms around Victor. His mouth found Victor’s, but this time the kiss was brief. “Good night, Victor,” he whispered.

“Good night.” He turned over onto his side as Yuuri slid in closer.

He felt Yuuri’s chest press against his back and let himself relax.

_I want… you to know all of me..._

Victor awoke in the morning, feeling someone pressing kisses into his back.

He was completely naked! Yuuri’s hands held on to him as his kisses travelled down.

“Yuuri…” he whispered. He opened his eyes and turned over to face him.

Yuuri sat up and grinned. He was already fully dressed, a detail that made Victor feel extra conscious of how naked he was. “Time to go,” he whispered, “or we’ll miss our flight back.”

He stared up at Yuuri as the meaning of his words sank in.

Yuuri stroked his cheek with his hand. “Still asleep?”

“Still asleep,” Victor repeated. He closed his eyes and drew in a slow breath. “This is just a dream.”

Yuuri pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’ll see the second part of the dream on the plane.”

He opened his eyes again. Then he gave a nod and climbed out of bed.

The following evening Yuuri was the one to shower second. Victor sat against his pillows in his pajamas and read Chris’ messages while waiting for Yuuri to come join him.

 _I think I might drop by sometime,_ Chris wrote. _I can take a few days off training and come see my friend._

 _Phichit will be glad to see you,_ Victor texted back.

_Haha I meant you ;)_

Victor puzzled over the meaning of the last two symbols. Did that mean something, or was it just a typo? He didn’t get a chance to puzzle over this for a long time, however: the door opened then and Yuuri stepped out of the bathroom.

Victor raised his eyes and froze. Then, very carefully, he put the phone on the bedside table, his eyes still fixed on Yuuri.

Yuuri stood before him, dressed only in his pajama shirt and nothing else. The shirt reached partway down his thighs, covering part of him, but Victor knew that Yuuri wasn’t wearing any underwear. He couldn’t explain where the knowledge came from, only that it felt right.

Yuuri walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. He undid the top two buttons and his shirt slid off one shoulder.

Victor stared at it, unable to look away.

Slowly Yuuri undid the next button. Victor’s eyes followed Yuuri’s hands.

Another button. Another. Another.

Victor’s breathing slowed.

Yuuri reached the last button. He was seated facing Victor with his legs tucked under him and his knees spread apart.

It was some time before Victor realized that he was staring. He didn’t want to look away.

But he needed to know what was the expression on Yuuri’s face.

Their eyes met.

Yuuri had a faint blush on his cheeks. He shifted closer and reached out for Victor.

_He’s going to undress me now._

“Tell me…” Yuuri’s finger slid down Victor’s nose, “are you really attached to your shirt?”

“I don’t need it,” Victor replied.

“Here, let me help you.”

He shifted forward and watched Yuuri undo the buttons of his shirt.

His phone vibrated on the bedside table. He ignored it. Chris could wait.

Yuuri pulled the shirt away and dropped it theatrically off to one side without even looking where it ended up. Victor found that he couldn’t care less about it either.

“What about your pants?” Yuuri asked. “I can’t imagine what you need them in bed for.”

The words sounded reasonable. Victor nodded. It was like a game of pretended. They both knew what Yuuri intended, but both of them were pretending as if it was really about Victor wearing too many clothes in bed.

Victor lifted himself as Yuuri pulled the pants down by the sides. For a moment, Yuuri lingered, captivated by the sight he’d revealed and then he went on pulling.

Once the pants were disposed of, Yuuri planted a brief kiss on Victor’s knee.

Why was his breathing so loud? Was it loud, or was it just him?

Yuuri sat up.

Victor pulled his knees up, keeping his legs apart. “Yuuri…” he whispered, “…please.” He swallowed. The words had to be said, otherwise how would Yuuri know what Victor was asking for?

 _He can probably see what I want,_ Victor thought.

“I want… I want to have sex with you,” Victor managed in a voice barely above a whisper.

For a long time, Yuuri stared at him without saying a word. Their eyes were fixed on each other.

On the bedside table, the phone continued to vibrate.

Yuuri blinked and shifted away. “Someone is calling you. You should probably get it. It might be urgent.”

“It’s just Chris,” Victor said dismissively. “I doubt that it’s urgent.” He considered his words. “It can probably wait for a little while.”

A look of doubt crossed Yuuri’s face.

“Please…” Victor whispered. “Yuuri…”

He lowered his eyes and stared down at Victor, as if his decision depended on what he saw between Victor’s legs. One of Yuuri’s hands gently stroked Victor’s left thigh.

Victor gave a gentle sigh and watched Yuuri shudder. He was feeling this too! Wasn’t he?

“I’m scared that you won’t enjoy it,” Yuuri admitted at last.

Victor almost shook him. _I really need this! I’m ready! Can’t you see that?_

“Let’s…” Yuuri licked his lips and raised his eyes to meet Victor’s, “…let’s have a… a sort of trial run? I’m going to stick my fingers inside you and you will pretend that it’s my dick.”

Victor nodded. The fear was starting to creep back in. Was something wrong? Why was Yuuri holding back?

His phone went still.

Yuuri drew in a deep breath. He crawled forward on the bed, placing his knees on either side of Victor. There was determination on his face now. Victor shifted his legs closer, but one of Yuuri’s knees came down between them. Yuuri’s hand came down beside it. Victor watched it slide towards him.

“Victor?” Yuuri whispered, stopping a few centimeters away.

“Yes…” Victor whispered. “Do it.”

The hand slipped under him. Victor felt it turn palm upwards and slide between him and the sheets. The tips of Yuuri’s fingers caressed his skin.

He reclined his head onto the pillow.

Yuuri’s fingers slipped inside him.

He gave a loud gasp.

Yuuri lowered himself down over Victor. He pushed his hips against Victor’s and Victor gasped again in response.

“Victor!” his mouth was sliding over Victor’s cheek, searching for Victor’s mouth.

“Yuuri…” He turned his face to meet Yuuri’s lips.

But Yuuri’s lips didn’t stop over Victor’s mouth. They moved on to the other side of Victor’s face. He pushed against Victor again and Victor’s body rose in response.

“Yuu… ri…”

Yuuri’s free hand was under Victor’s back, holding their chests close.

Hands! He had to do something with his hands! Victor’s hand trailed up Yuuri’s back and stopped over his shoulder blades.

Yuuri buried his face in Victor’s neck, his mouth burning against Victor’s skin.

He was flying. They were both flying.

Victor pulled his legs in, his thighs sliding against Yuuri’s thighs. One of his hands rose up and slipped into Yuuri’s hair.

Every touch electrified him and left him longing for more. He wanted to hold on forever. He wanted…

Yuuri pulled away and sat up. His hand pulled out of Victor, leaving him gasping.

Victor lay with his legs spread wide and stared up at Yuuri. _Here I am. All of me is yours to have._

The sound of their breathing was the only thing he could hear. He felt as if there wasn’t enough air in the room for the both of them.

And then another sound cut in. It took some time before he could figure out what it was. His mind was too full of Yuuri for him to be able to think clearly.

“Your phone is still buzzing,” Yuuri pointed out between gasps for air. “Are you sure it’s Chris? Maybe he’s having an emergency.”

 _I’m having an emergency!_ Victor thought. _No wait, I think it’s called an orgasm._ God, his brain wasn’t working at all!

Yuuri picked up the phone and handed it to him. Victor accepted it without thinking. His eye fell on the screen and he sat bolt upright, feeling as if someone had upturned a bucket of cold water over his head. He looked to Yuuri for reassurance, but only saw his own fear reflected in the man’s face.

“Who is it?” Yuuri whispered, as if afraid that the caller will hear him.

“It’s my mother.” There was no avoiding this now. He accepted the call and tensed.

“Good evening, Victor,” she began, sounding as if she was making a speech before the press.

Victor sat up and tried his best to control himself.

“Good evening, mother.” Darn! He still sounded out of breath.

“Your father and I have something important to tell you,” she went on. Half of him expected those words to be followed by something like “tonight the President met with…”

“Are you alright?” he asked, terrified of what he was about to hear.

“Your father and I are both fine.” He let out a sigh of relief. “But we just concluded a very important talk that concerns you. We need to speak with you tomorrow about it. Are you free in the morning?”

“M-morning?” his voice squeaked and he squirmed. He cleared his throat. “Morning will be perfect.”

“Excellent. Your father and I will be waiting for you in the lobby of your apartment building at 9. We will go have breakfast together.”

“Sounds… wonderful.” He felt his heart sink in his chest. What was this about? Why were they calling him now?

“Have a good evening, Victor.”

“G-good evening to you too, mother,” he stammered out.

She hung up and he ended the call, dropping down onto his pillow with a loud sigh.

Yuuri set the phone aside and gave both it and Victor a worried look. “What happened? Why did she call?”

Victor put a hand over his eyes. He’d grown weak in the past few months. He’d forgotten his duty. He’d allowed Yuuri to carry his troubles for him instead of relying on his own strength. He wasn’t supposed to burden others.

“Victor?”

His parents’ voices scolded him in his mind. He’d been a bad person and his parents had found out. Now came his punishment.

“Victor, you’re scaring me.”

He took his hand away and did his best to look calm. “My father and mother want to see me,” he said. “We made plans to meet tomorrow.” The words came out one after another as if he was reading out the news on the main channel.

Yuuri lowered his head. He rubbed Victor’s chest with his hands, but Victor’s body didn’t respond to his touch. “Why now?” he whispered.

Victor said nothing. He didn’t know. It wasn’t right to lie, if he had no truth to offer.

Yuuri bit his lip, gave a little nod and met Victor’s eye. “Can I come with you?”

The question caught Victor off guard. His instinct was to say no. His parents wanted to speak with him on what would, without a doubt, turn out to be a private matter. But – this was Yuuri, Yuuri who he’d let into his life, Yuuri who’d done so much for him. He felt himself weaken again. The wall he’d put up around himself trembled. He was suddenly not sure he could face his parents all by himself.

“Please…” he whispered and closed his eyes.

Yuuri pressed a kiss to Victor’s temple. “You know I won’t leave you,” he said. “Let’s shower and go sleep. Why don’t you use the bathroom first?”

Victor nodded and climbed out of the bed. It was so easy to let others decide for him. He knew he ought to be the one making the decisions, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Streams of water rolled down Yuuri’s body as he stared down at his feet. He couldn’t hold back the tears running down his face.

Victor’s parents had a lot to answer for.

He put his hands over his face. He had to be strong. He couldn’t let himself fall apart like this. Victor needed him.

He switched the water off and wiped himself dry with a tower.

This time when he came out of the bathroom Victor was already asleep.

Yuuri switched the lights off and joined Victor under the blankets. He slid over until their bodies touched and put his arms around Victor. The man was wearing his pajamas now.

Yuuri rested his head against Victor’s back and slowed his breathing to match Victor’s.

How dare his parents interrupt their happiness like this?

Yuuri and Victor rose early and put all their efforts into getting ready. Yuuri watched out of the corner of his eye as Victor put on a suit and turned away with a sigh.

Victor brushed his hair and adjusted his clothes.

Unable to stand it any longer, Yuuri walked over to him and adjusted his tie. “You look very handsome,” he whispered and caught a long kiss.

He felt Victor’s hands pull him close and his heartbeat quickened. If only they were getting ready for a date! Then Yuuri could flirt and put Victor at east. If only things were that easy! It would mean that their future was certain.

He stepped back, breaking the kiss almost at the same time and smiled at Victor. “I will protect you,” he promised.

He waited to see what Victor would say to this, but the man merely nodded. Yuuri’s heart sank in his chest.

Victor had acted strangely after the call. At times, he felt distant, reminding Yuuri of the way he’d been when they’d first met. Yuuri was starting to fear that Victor wouldn’t accept his hugs and kisses anymore.

 _Please don’t lock me out of your heart,_ Yuuri thought, pulling Victor into a tight hug. _I don’t think I’ll be able to take it._

Victor’s hands were around him. “Let’s go,” he whispered, “or we’ll be late.” He trembled.

Yuuri wondered then what kind of parents he had that the mere thought of being late filled him with so much fear.

What kind of parents didn’t call or visit their only son? And when they finally _did_ call, what kind of parents didn’t ask how he was doing?

He stepped back and did his best to smile. “Let’s go.”

“Sorry for making you miss practice,” Victor apologized. “It wasn’t fair to you.”

“You are…” he hesitated for only a moment before saying, “…my boyfriend, my family. I’ll do anything for you.” He smiled wider and leaned forward to whisper, “I promise to prove that in bed next time.”

Victor coloured.

 _God, how I love you! If only you knew!_ He should tell Victor, he knew he ought to tell him. He’d even planned the whole thing out. Things just kept getting in the way and he’d let them. He _had_ to tell Victor. More than that, he had to say more than just “I love you,” because in the bottom drawer of the bed in his room, under all his shirts, lay a little box that had cost him all his savings and even two future paychecks. He had to find the courage to say the words that went along with the little box.

But as they entered the lobby and were greeted by Victor’s parents, Yuuri had the odd sensation that the box’s contents wouldn’t mean as much to Victor as it did to him.

They stood slightly apart, like casual acquaintances and watched Victor with polite expressions on their faces. “Good morning, Victor,” they said one after another and Yuuri hated them instantly. It didn’t help that he felt very underdressed in his best clothes.

Victor’s mother was tall and thin, dressed as if she had just bought her clothes, her hair perfectly styled, her makeup subtly making her features more pleasant to look at. Victor’s father dressed like an ad for very expensive men’s clothing. His features were Victor’s, but tones down from handsome to just a bit above average. Yuuri had seen people like the two of them many times in the most expensive seats of the Theatre, or having a casual conversation over a glass of expensive wine during the intermission.

“This is Yuuri,” Victor said. “He is my closest friend.”

 _Friend,_ Yuuri thought sadly and wondered what that meant. The explanation could be as simple as Victor not knowing how to introduce a boyfriend (having no experience in this area whatsoever), or it could be that he was afraid of how his parents would react to him having a boyfriend.

“Hello, Yuuri, I am Nadezhda Vasilievna Nikiforova and this is my husband, Alexander Anatolyevich Nikiforov.” It was the most formal introduction in Yuuri’s life. Their smiles didn’t reach their eyes and Yuuri could feel that they disapproved of the whole situation.

Had they guessed that Victor had concealed part of the truth, or did they generally not approve of Yuuri based on some other criteria? He had a nasty feeling that he was about to find out.

“Will you come have breakfast with us?” the mother asked. It wasn’t an invitation. If anything, her voice contained the hint that he would do well to decline and invent a suitable excuse if he didn’t have one easily available.

“Yes, thank you,” Yuuri replied as politely as his anger would let him. He reached out and took Victor’s hand, not breaking eye contact with his mother.

She pursed her lips and said nothing.

“A car is waiting for us outside,” her husband announced.

Yuuri looked at Victor and gave a little nod, asking him to lead the way.

The car that was waiting for them looked as brand new as their clothes. It was long with four seats that faced each other in the back. Victor went in first, followed closely by Yuuri and then Victor’s parents.

Yuuri had never been inside a limo before, but the cold silence that filled the air throughout the whole drive made certain that he didn’t enjoy a single second of it. He continued to hold on to Victor’s hand as they both stared out the window at the buildings they passed.

He could feel Victor’s parents studying him and Yuuri could feel without them saying anything that they didn’t like what they saw.

Breakfast, to no one’s surprise, would be at an expensive restaurant. Yuuri, who’d lost all his appetite the moment he set eyes on Victor’s parents, ordered tea and a small cheese plate. Victor’s parents both ordered a long list of items.

“And for you, sir?” the waiter asked.

Everyone looked at Victor.

“Just Earl Grey tea for me, please,” he said, handing the menu over. He was locking himself away in his head again.

Yuuri waited for his parents to comment, to tell him that he ought to eat something, that skipping breakfast wasn’t a good idea, but they were silent. He put his hand over Victor’s.

“Are you sure?” he asked in a whisper. “How will you make it through practice after this?”

A sad smile spread over Victor’s face, making Yuuri’s heart beat faster. “I’m not hungry right now.”

_He’s terrified. And so am I._

The waiter left with a small bow.

“It has not escaped our notice,” Victor’s mother began, sounding like a queen addressing her subjects, “that you are nearly 30 and still without a spouse.”

The words dropped on Yuuri like a ton of lead. His eyes darted to Victor, trying to read his reaction.

Victor’s cheeks coloured.

The waiter returned with the tea they’d ordered, giving Victor time to compose himself and to think of an answer.

“That is true,” he agreed as soon as the waiter left.

“It will not do,” his mother went on. “The Nikiforov line must continue.”

 _She really_ does _think she’s royalty._ Yuuri thought.

Victor gave a little cough. “I’ve… uh… never dated women,” he said. But the hint went by unnoticed.

“You need not worry about that,” his mother assured him. “We made arrangements for you.”

“You made… arrangements?” Victor repeated with a horrified look on his face.

Yuuri was speechless. Victor’s parents seemed to have stepped out of another world.

“We found you a perfect match,” his mother clarified. “The young woman comes from a well-connected family. She has a lot of money to her name and a degree from Oxford.”

“Oxford…” Victor repeated in a hollow voice.

“Oxford. I believe she lived in England for some time. She’s still there now.”

 _Is this really happening?_ Yuuri asked himself. _Maybe I’m dreaming. This can’t be real._ He slipped his hand under the table and pinched his leg. It really hurt.

“I’ve heard excellent reports about her from others,” Victor’s mother went on, oblivious to the way Victor was reacting to her words. “I believe she’s beautiful, although I haven’t seen any pictures of her myself.”

_Did she just say that, or am I hearing things? She arranged for a marriage between her son and a woman she’s never seen, never mind met?_

A long pause followed those words. She didn’t ask Victor for his opinion, clearly expecting him to accept hers without question.

“You do not need to thank me,” she assured him. “As your mother, it is my duty to do this.”

Victor sat with his shoulders hunched. He hadn’t touched his tea. In that moment, he reminded Yuuri of the way he’d stood outside the Theatre, looking lonely and sad.

Yuuri’s hand found Victor’s under the table and gave it a tight squeeze. _I’m right here._

“I… never dated women before,” Victor repeated.

“As I said before,” his mother countered, “that is irrelevant.”

“It _is_ relevant,” Victor protested, meeting her gaze. “Haven’t you ever wondered why? I’ve never been interested in women in my life.”

“Obviously you wouldn’t show your interest publicly. To do something so vulgar –” his mother began.

“I’m dating Yuuri,” Victor interrupted sharply. “He’s my _boyfriend_.”

His parents stared at Victor as if he’d just told them that he couldn’t make it to a meeting with the President.

Victor raised their joined hands from under the table and placed them over the tablecloth for everyone to see.

“Victor!” His mother looked scandalized.

“I’m not leaving Yuuri,” Victor declared simply.

Yuuri felt his blood rise to his face. He gave Victor a grateful look. Victor responded with a tender one of his own.

“I didn’t want to have to say this,” his mother began, her face still full of disgust. “I know that for an honest person like you, Victor, this will be difficult to hear, but people like Yuuri use people like us for their personal gain.”

“What?” Victor and Yuuri exclaimed almost in unison.

She sighed. “He’s using you, Victor. He pretends that he cares so he can have your money, or your apartment, or your things and he’s manipulating you into thinking that you care about him in return. You’ve never shown any interest in boys before and –”

Victor rose from his seat. “Let’s go, Yuuri. You already missed an hour of practice. I don’t want you to miss any more because of me.”

“Sit down, Victor,” she ordered in a calm tone of voice that had just the hint of an edge to it. “Let’s talk reasonably about this.”

Yuuri rose to his feet and watched Victor struggle to decide. Finally Victor lowered himself into his chair.

“What do you want?” he asked in a low voice.

“I want to see my son married with a wife and children,” his mother answered in a tone that was as cold as when she’d started.

“What does it matter to you?” Victor asked. His hands shook, but he went on. “I haven’t seen you in more than two years! Why does my life matter to you now?”

“Your life always mattered to us,” she contradicted him smoothly.

It took all of Yuuri’s self-control to keep from making a comment.

“I don’t want to be married to a woman. I don’t want to have children with one either,” Victor said, anger slipping into his voice. “I won’t be happy stuck in a life like that.”

“It is about duty, not about happiness,” his mother argued. “And how do you know that you won’t be happy? Give it time and you will learn to be content.”

“I won’t do it,” Victor declared. “I refuse.”

His mother’s face turned pale. “You dare disobey me when I give you a place to live and send you money so you have something to eat?”

“I refuse to do it,” Victor repeated. He rose to his feet. “This conversation is finished. Have a good day.”

“Victor!” Her voice was barely louder than before, but Yuuri felt as if she’d screamed. “You sit down and tell me you will do your duty, or I’m cutting all funding for that orphanage of yours!”

A heavy silence followed those words and Yuuri got up. “Don’t you dare,” he began in a low voice, his blood boiling. “Don’t you dare blackmail Victor with the lives of those children! Do you know – You _must_ know how much it means to him! He’s put his life and soul into it! There are _two hundred thirty-seven_ lives at stake here!”

“Don’t talk to me, young man!” she exclaimed, turning her face away from him. “I won’t be talked to by _your sort_!”

“ _My_ sort? What does that mean?” Yuuri stepped over to Victor and took his hand. “Don’t let them intimidate you into this, Victor. I will find the money for those children, or we’ll think of something together.” He looked into Victor’s face. “What do you say to that?”

Tears rolled down Victor’s cheeks. He nodded silently.

“Oh, Victor…” Yuuri took Victor’s face with both hands and pressed a brief kiss to his lips.

He could hear Victor’s parents protesting and making threats, but he didn’t care. “Let’s go home,” he suggested gently. “You need to eat breakfast.”

He led Victor out, not bothering with any goodbyes. He wasn’t going to wish Victor’s parents a good morning, day or night. The big expensive restaurant had intimidated him, so it was a relief to step outside at last.

“Yuuri, I’m so sorry,” Victor managed after they walked two blocks in silence. “I’m sorry for what they said to you.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Yuuri reassured him, feeling his cheeks burn at the memory of what had been said. “You’re not them.”

“But they’re my parents!”

Yuuri stopped and faced Victor. “Not if they say things like that! They’re _not_ your parents!” He took Victor’s face with his hands. “If only you could meet _my_ parents, Victor! They would take you in, in a heartbeat. They would teach you soon enough what parents are _really_ like.”

“Let’s meet them,” Victor whispered.

“I can’t. They’re in Japan.” He sighed and placed his forehead against Victor’s. Suddenly he felt as if his family was on a different planet altogether. They called each other on every holiday and his parents often sent him emails, asking how he was doing, but he needed them here. He needed to show Victor what family really meant.

“Those children… Victor whispered, shuddering. “How will we provide for them?”

“Let’s go home.” Yuuri was suddenly aware of just how hungry he was. He couldn’t think on an empty stomach. All he knew was that there had to be a solution and that he would definitely find it.

It wasn’t easy to figure out how to get home from here. This was a part of the city he’d never been to before, but luckily it wasn’t far from their apartment from here.

They arrived feeling exhausted. Yuuri sat Victor down in the kitchen and busied himself at the stove. His mind raced. How much money would they need to survive? How much did they need to keep the orphanage running? Where would they get it?

He cracked three eggs and mixed them together, deciding that an omelette was the fastest food he could manage without really concentrating.

Once everything was on the pan and getting ready, he turned away from the stove and looked at Victor.

Victor sat with his head lowered and his arms hanging by his sides.

Yuuri felt his heart breaking. He couldn’t imagine what Victor was feeling right now.

He walked over to Victor and lowered himself to his knees, Victor’s legs on either side of him. He took Victor’s face and raised it to look into his eyes. “Victor…”

“I disobeyed them. I disobeyed my parents, Yuuri,” he whispered. “They’ll disown me over this.

 _They shouldn’t. Not over something as small as this,_ Yuuri thought.

“But what could I do?” Victor went on. “I can’t – I don’t love – I love _you_ , Yuuri!” the confession came out in a mix of agony and admiration. He met Yuuri’s eye as he spoke.

Yuuri let out a soft sigh. He trailed his fingers down the side of Victor’s face. “Oh, Victor…” Then, coming to his senses, he hurried out of the room only to return several minutes later with a little box in his hand. He dropped down to his knees a second time.

“I meant to give you this at a happier moment,” he began, rubbing the box with his hand. He smiled sadly. “I thought about setting up a table on the balcony, making dinner for two and then…” his voice dropped to a whisper, “I would drop down to one knee and take your hand just like this.” He took Victor’s hand. “And I would say…” He drew in a breath. “Victor, you are the best person I’ve ever met. You have a kind heart, the kindest out there. I love you.” He pressed his lips to Victor’s hand. “I want to spend my whole life with you.” He kissed Victor’s knuckles one by one as he struggled to open the box with his other hand. Finally it came apart and Yuuri held it out in his palm. “Will you marry me?”

“Yuuri!”

“I’m serious,” Yuuri insisted. “If you want to wait a bit, that’s fine by me.”

“Wait?” Victor echoed.

Yuuri nodded. “I promise I’ll take care of you.” He trailed his free hand down the side of Victor’s face. “I will be your family.”

Victor closed his eyes. “I can’t do this…” he whispered. “Not right now.”

Yuuri dropped down. He put the ring away and pocketed the box. Only then did he remember about the breakfast he’d been making.

He set the table for the two of them and split the omelette in two. Victor ate without saying a word.

Yuuri kept throwing worried glances at him, trying to guess what was on Victor’s mind. He cursed himself. What was wrong with him? Victor was in no state to talk about marriage! They had to figure out how they will survive now. They had to find a way to provide for those children.

Victor finished eating first. He got up to wash his plate as Yuuri contemplated the remains of the omelette on his plate. There _had_ to be a solution to all this. There just had to.

“I’m going to retire from figure skating,” Victor announced. “There’s no point in me competing anymore. I need to do ice shows and raise money for them. He lowered his head. “That is, if anyone even wants to watch me perform.”

Yuuri stared at Victor’s back in disbelief. “Of course they’ll want to see you perform!” he exclaimed. Then he rose from his chair and rushed over to Victor to hug him from behind.

“I’ve let them down, Yuuri. I was selfish and let them all down. What does my happiness matter if –”

Yuuri turned Victor around to face him. “Don’t say that! Don’t you dare say that! It’s not the end! We will find a way together!” He stared into Victor’s eyes. “Promise me you won’t do anything rash?”

“I promise.”

“Thank you.” Yuuri pressed his lips against Victor’s and pulled away. “I’m going to training. I’ll try to think of something while I’m gone.”

“Let me walk you,” Victor offered. “I made you miss your practice. At least let me walk you there.”

“Alright.”

Victor reached down and gave Yuuri a long kiss.

Yuuri stood before his locker, willing himself to change faster so he can run home and see Victor, but, for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Victor’s mother’s words still rang in his ears and when he closed his eyes he could see the way Victor’s face had crumpled as soon as she’d said them.

Who had given them the right to speak to Victor like that? They were his parents! They’d gotten so hung up on duty that at some point of their lives they’d forgotten what it meant to be a parent.

Again Yuuri thought of his parents and again he regretted that they weren’t here to make them both feel better. He missed them terribly. His mother welcomed all visitors with open arms. She would sit anyone down and feed them until they were sure they would burst. She had a way of listening to people that made them feel as if they were at the centre of the universe. And his father…

Why did he ever leave home?

His head pressed against the locker and he felt hot tears pour down his cheeks.

He heard the door to the change room open, followed by the sound of someone’s footsteps. He ought to hide his tears, he knew, but he just couldn’t stop.

“Yuuri?” It was Phichit. “Yuuri, are you alright?”

He wiped his face with the back of his hand and turned to face his friend. “It’s fine. I just…” He sighed. “I know I shouldn’t and I know it’s my fault, but I just miss my family so much.”

“You never told me about your family,” Phichit pointed out. “Where are they? Do you have any siblings? I’ve got three siblings younger than me and they used to drive me crazy with their pranks and my parents…” He trailed off, seeing Yuuri’s face crumble. “Come here.” He sat Yuuri on one of the benches and put his arms on Yuuri’s. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Yuuri lied. “I was just thinking about them. I have a sister. Mari, she’s older than me. She lives with my parents in Hasetsu. That’s in Japan.” His face spread into a sad smile. “It’s a small town off the coast. There’s a castle on top of the hill, overlooking the place. Every spring the cherry trees bloom. You should see it, Phichit! It’s the most beautiful thing in the world!” He sighed, feeling himself return to reality. “St. Petersburg is very beautiful, too, but…”

“I understand,” Phichit told him. “I haven’t been back home in years!” He shifted away from Yuuri and reclined onto his arms. “It’s fun here, but sometimes I remember those days when I’d come home from school and the house was filled with the delicious smell of my mother’s cooking.” He sighed. “You know, I’ve never had rice cooked as well as my mom makes it.”

Yuuri was silent.

“Victor doesn’t have this problem,” Phichit said in an innocent tone of voice. “His parents must live here somewhere… right?” He must’ve realized that something was off because Yuuri remained silent.

Yuuri felt Phichit’s gaze on him and said nothing.

And then Phichit hit the nail on the head, making Yuuri wonder how he’d done it. “Have you met Victor’s parents yet, Yuuri?”

“What?” He stared at Phichit with a mixture of fear and shock.

“Don’t look at me like that! It’s all so serious between you two that I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me that you already got engaged.”

Yuuri turned away.

“What? What is it?”

Phichit didn’t know, Yuuri told himself. To him life was straightforward and simple. He didn’t know that things had a tendency to get very complicated for Yuuri. It was just Yuuri’s luck.

“I met Victor’s parents,” Yuuri finally managed.

“And? How did it go?” Phichit asked. Then he stopped. “It didn’t go well, did it?” His tone became serious as the full reality of their situation seemed to hit him. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? Or does Victor really care what his parents think?”

“It’s worse than that,” Yuuri told him. “They found a wife for Victor.”

Phichit swore softly. “They didn’t!”

“And…” Yuuri stopped. Was it right to tell Phichit this? Would he go around telling everyone? This was Victor’s secret to tell, but most of it had already spilled out, so it was too late now. “Victor told them no and they’re not going to pay for anything anymore.”

There was a long silence as Phichit considered the implications of those words. “Wait! Who paid for the orphanage? Don’t tell me they’re going to stop funding that!”

“That’s what they said they’d do.” Yuuri stood up, suddenly remembering that he’d been in the process of leaving. “I need to go. I promised Victor to think of something.” He packed his things and closed his locker. “Who knows what he decided to do in my absence?” The words were out of his mouth before he’d thought about them, but once his ears heard what his mouth had said he felt a wave of panic rise in his chest.

What will Victor do if he gets very desperate?

He shuddered. “I need to go,” he repeated and made for the exit.

“Wait!” Phichit exclaimed, running after him. “Wait!”

Yuuri slowed down, but kept walking. “What is it?”

Phichit caught up with Yuuri and fell into step beside him. “Doesn’t Victor get paid for competing?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri admitted, “but it can’t be enough money to run an orphanage.”

“True,” Phichit agreed. “But what about ads?”

“What?” Yuuri stopped.

Phichit stepped in front of him. “Don’t all the athletes do some sort of work for ads? You know those ones that are all “I won my medal by eating this… yoghurt!” kind of ads?”

“No…” Yuuri admitted. But then, he’d never paid much attention to ads.

“There must be companies willing to pay a fortune for a chance to have the World Champion of Everything advertise their stuff!” Phichit exclaimed.

Yuuri looked skeptical at this. They were just ads. How much would people pay for someone to stand in front of a camera and say “buy this pocket”?

“Leave it to me,” Phichit said. “I have friends that might be able to figure this out. I’ve heard of soccer players getting a lot. Surely _the_ Victor Nikiforov is worth more?”

 _He’s worth all the money in the world,_ Yuuri thought. He nodded. “Thank you, Phichit.” Then he remembered about Chris and scolded himself for being so selfish. “I think Chris really likes you,” Yuuri said. “I gave him your number. I hope it’s ok.”

Phichit laughed. “That man makes seduction into a form of art!”

“He looked serious,” Yuuri insisted.

But Phichit refused to be convinced. “I’m sure he did and I wouldn’t be surprised he says he’s serious to Victor, but is he really?”

Yuuri didn’t know how to argue with this. Chris had mentioned Phichit to him several times and he, himself, had brought up Phichit in the first place, trying to convince Chris that Phichit cared for him. But what did each of them really feel? He had no way of knowing.

“Don’t worry about it,” Phichit reassured him. “We’re adults and we’ll sort it out like adults. You have enough to worry about.”

There was no arguing with this, so Yuuri let the subject drop.

“I need to go,” Yuuri said. “Victor is waiting for me. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good luck in tonight’s performance!”

Phichit grinned. “Not that I need it.” Then his expression became serious. “Don’t do anything rash, ok? We’ll work something out. I have connections. I can ask around. There’s bound to be some way to find money for them!”

Yuuri nodded. He knew that Victor tended to prefer to deal with things without other people’s help, but this time was different and pride and principles had to step aside before necessity.

Phichit gave him a light pat on the shoulder and went back to the change room.

Outside the street were empty. More than that, Victor wasn’t out there waiting for Yuuri. The observation frightened him, but he hurried on, hoping for the best. Maybe Victor got carried away and forgot what time it was. Just because he wasn’t waiting for Yuuri didn’t mean anything bad had happened. Victor hadn’t promised to meet Yuuri, after all.

When Yuuri got home, he spotted a pair of shoes and a coat he didn’t recognize. His heart beat fast. Had Victor’s parents come here in Yuuri’s absence, determined to change their son’s mind?

He threw off his coat and shoes, and ran into the living room where he found Victor and Yakov sitting side by side on the couch.

Victor raise his head, alerted by the sound of the door and Makkachin’s loud barking.

“Yuuri!” he exclaimed, rising to his feet and rushing over to catch Yuuri in a big hug. “Yuuri! You’re back!”

Yuuri gave him a brief kiss on the lips. “I am,” he agreed. “What happened while I was gone? Why is Yakov here?” Too late he heard how the question sounded and hurried to add, “You are welcome here, of course, but you haven’t visited us before, so I worried…”

The old coach smiled. “No need to apologize.” He rose to his feet.

Victor released Yuuri and stepped away. “I’ll get started on making dinner,” he said before disappearing into the kitchen.

“I’ll come join you in a minute!” Yuuri called out. He crouched down to pet Makkachin, noticing how much the dog was jumping around him. “What happened, Yakov?”

“What is all this about Victor retiring?” Yakov asked. “He called to tell me he’s going to announce it tomorrow, but he won’t tell me why.”

Yuuri gave a heavy sigh and Makkachin licked his hand. How many more people will get pulled into their problems? He’d already told Phichit (and as time went by he became more convinced that this had been a mistake and that, what was worse, when Victor learned about it, he would get really upset with Yuuri). Here was Yakov before him – an old coach with who knew how many pupils who all had their own problems to deal with.

“Victor wants to retire,” Yuuri said simply. “It’s his choice, isn’t it?”

“Yes, of course, it’s his choice,” Yakov admitted. “It’s just that I didn’t think he’d retire now. I thought he would finish the season, at least! And when he called me, he sounded so upset that I thought…” The coach gave Yuuri an apologetic look. “I worried that he was quitting because you two had a fight.”

Yuuri turned away to hide the bitter smile on his face. If only things had been that simple!

“Can you tell me what happened?” Yakov asked in a low voice. “He thinks he can just say it and people will accept what he said. He doesn’t realize that the press will come after us both, especially him as soon as he makes his announcement.”

Yuuri stared at Yakov in surprise. “But why?”

“Because Victor is so much better than everyone else,” Yakov replied simply.

“Some athletes retire when they see that they can’t keep up anymore. Some athletes retire to raise a family and take a break. And some athletes retire if they had a bad injury, or too many small ones. But Victor hasn’t had any injuries and if he’s retiring to… uh raise a family, then surely he can wait for the season to end?”

Yuuri was silent. If Victor wanted to pull out now, could he argue with him? But, on the other hand, did Victor need to retire now?

“What really frightens me,” the old coach said half to himself and half to Yuuri, “is that neither of you will tell me why he’s doing this. Surely there is _some_ reason behind it?”

Yuuri’s heart filled with pity for the coach. It wasn’t right to burden him with more worries, but excluding him didn’t feel right either. “Victor is…” Now, how to say this? “His parents won’t give him any money anymore.”

He saw the expression on Yakov’s face change. “I see.”

Yuuri nodded.

“But that’s not a reason to leave figure skating!” Yakov protested. “I have several pupils who don’t have a lot of money and they have jobs on the side. There’s funding for athletes too…”

“That won’t be enough,” Yuuri said. He didn’t want to get into this. Too many people knew about it already. Telling Phichit had definitely been a mistake. He rose to his feet and made for the kitchen, hoping to avoid the conversation this way.

But the old coach refused to be shaken off so easily. “Then we’ll have to consider other options,” he insisted. “I know it’s none of my business, but you might want to reconsider your personal spending –”

“It won’t be enough for the children,” Victor cut in. He stood at the counter with his head lowered.

Yuuri put his arms around Victor. It hurt so much to see him this way. The pain stung sharply, but not as sharply – he was sure – as the pain that Victor felt when he told himself that he’d let those children down.

“Children?” Yakov echoed. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Are you two raising children together?”

“The orphans,” Victor answered. He turned to face Yakov. “Have you ever considered how much it costs to run an orphanage? How much money is needed just to pay the staff and to make sure the children have something to eat every day? I did the calculations earlier today. I’m never going to earn enough for that!”

“Orphanage? What are you talking about?”

Yuuri looked from Yakov to Victor. His coach didn’t know. Of course he didn’t!

“Victor’s parents founded an orphanage,” Yuuri explained simply. “And now they won’t fund it anymore.”

“That’s monstrous!” Yakov exclaimed.

Victor stood with his head lowered. “It’s my fault. I’ve been selfish and now they’re paying the price.”

Yuuri took Victor by the hands. “We’ll find a way,” he promised. “Please, Victor. Stick by me and I promise that I’ll find a way. I talked to Phichit,” he began hesitantly. “He said there’s money in advertising.” He turned his head and looked to Yakov for confirmation. “What do you say? If Victor appeared in ads, would they pay him well for it?”

Yakov looked surprised at this question. “Yes, of course! That’s an excellent idea! I’ll talk to a few people and see what they say. We’ll find something good, I’m sure of it!”

“No.”

Yuuri turned to stare at Victor in surprise.

“I can’t do advertising,” he said coldly. “I can’t…” He trailed off and looked away.

Yuuri watched Victor struggle with his pride. His parents had a lot to answer for. He could see that all this was bothering him. Victor wasn’t comfortable with everyone pitching in.

Yuuri stroked Victor’s arm as soothingly as he could. “Think about it? Please?”

Victor let out a heavy sigh. “You’re right,” he whispered. “I have no choice. I need to do this for them.”

Yuuri gave Victor’s hand a gentle squeeze. Then he sniffed the air. “I think dinner is almost ready,” he pointed out with a smile.

“I completely forgot!” Victor exclaimed and rushed over to the stove.

Despite the heavy weight on everyone’s minds, they spent a pleasant evening with Yakov. The coach entertained his hosts with stories from his youth. By the end, even Victor broke out into laughter.

When Yakov rose to go, they both walked him to the door and Yuuri invited him to come visit them again.

Yakov looked at Victor. “I will be glad to come again,” he said.

“Thank you,” Victor murmured, “for all your help.”

A smile spread over Yakov’s face. “It’s a coach’s job to help his students.” He lingered and looked as if he wanted to add something else, but he changed his mind and left, wishing them both a good evening.

The door closed behind him and Victor turned away to walk back to the kitchen.

Yuuri followed. The coach had set his worries to rest, but now they were alone all those worries returned in full force.

Victor dropped into a chair. Makkachin came up to him and placed his paws on Victor’s knees. Victor stroked his fur absent-mindedly.

“I’m sorry for pulling him into this,” Yuuri said, standing before Victor like a student who’d misbehaved.

“You’re right,” Victor said, “I was letting my pride blind me when we need all the help we can get.”

Yuuri felt disarmed by this admission. Victor sounded humiliated and Yuuri didn’t know what to do to make him feel better. All the words that came to mind sounded hollow and meaningless.

“Let’s go to sleep,” Yuuri said. “We’ll walk Makkachin first and then go. We need some rest. Everything will be better in the morning.”

Victor rose to his feet. He didn’t argue. He went to retrieve Makkachin’s leash and together they went outside.

Yuuri could see by his face that he was turning a thought over this way and that and trembled in fear. What if Victor decided that it was better to go back to his parents and accept this marriage, after all? He didn’t know how to argue against that. He wondered then if he was the selfish one.

He thought about all the pictures he’d hung up in his room, of the albums of cards from the children. Could he guarantee they’d be looked after now?

His thoughts went round and round, mixing until they made no sense anymore. What was right? What was wrong? What ought he have done? What was he supposed to do now?

“Yuuri,” Victor said, stopping and turning to face him, “something’s been bothering me all day and I can’t get it out of my mind.”

“What?” Yuuri asked, bracing himself for the worst.

“Why did you want to do a trial run last night?”

“What?” Yuuri came to a sharp stop as if he’d just walked into a wall. This was the last thing he’d expected to hear right now.

“You’re hesitating with me,” Victor went on. “Do you not trust me to be able to deal with sex?”

“What? No, of course not!” Yuuri protested.

“Then I want you to have sex with me. This whole day all I could think about was how much I want you. I can’t think clearly. I don’t trust any of the decisions I’ve made.”

Yuuri stared at him. _Please tell me you won’t. You can’t do this to me, Victor._

It was hard to read Victor’s expression in the dark. Yuuri brushed his hair aside and trailed his fingers down the side of his face. He placed his forehead against Victor’s. “I will make love to you tonight,” he whispered and felt Victor shudder at this promise.

_After all, I want this too._

They turned around and headed back. Yuuri felt his heart beat fast with excitement and fear. He tightened his hold on Victor’s hand and walked faster.

Maybe Victor wouldn’t leave him. Maybe this wouldn’t turn out to be their last night together. He had to tell himself that. Besides, he had no way of keeping Victor here. Victor was always free to go.

 _I have to trust him,_ Yuuri told himself as they climbed the stairs of their apartment. _I have to hope for the best._

 _Maybe the idea hasn’t even occurred to him,_ he thought as he pulled his jacket off. _Maybe I’m just seeing what isn’t there._

They exchanged a wonderfully long kiss in the corridor and when they pulled apart it was only to join again and make for the bedroom together.

 _Maybe it’s just my imagination,_ he thought as Victor dropped down on the bed and Yuuri followed after, letting his hands slip under Victor’s shirt.

Victor broke the kiss. “Undress me,” he whispered.

Yuuri pulled the shirt up over his head.

Victor smiled. His hair was dishevelled. His chest was wonderfully bare and his mouth was still asking to be kissed.

Yuuri leaned forward into another kiss and Victor’s head dropped back onto the pillow. Yuuri’s hands slid over Victor’s chest, down to his stomach and then his right dropped into Victor’s pants.

Victor broke the kiss again. “Yuuri…” he whispered.

Yuuri covered Victor’s jaw with kisses, then his neck and his chest. He moved down Victor’s stomach until he reached the top of his pants.

“May I?” he whispered, his hand slipping out of Victor’s pants.

“Yes!” Victor gasped out.

Yuuri sat up and, very carefully, removed Victor’s pants. Victor’s underwear soon joined the pile of clothes on the side. Yuuri’s hands stroked Victor’s thighs a few times before gripping them firmly. Yuuri lowered his head.

Victor gave a long sigh, as if feeling relieved at last.

Yuuri shifted his whole body closer he let his hands slip up to Victor’s buttocks, which he gripped as he kept sucking.

Victor gasped for air.

Yuuri’s hands shifted closer together, as if he was trying to get a better grip on Victor.

“Yuuri! Please!” Victor begged between gasps. He sounded very weak.

Yuuri let go, raised his head and smiled at Victor.

Victor’s face was red. He reached up and Yuuri lowered his head to let him take his face with both hands. “Can I undress you?” Victor asked.

“Yes.”

Victor sat up. His fingers scrambled down the buttons of Yuuri’s shirt, undoing them as quickly as he could. As soon as he reached the bottom one, he pulled Yuuri’s shirt apart.

“Yuuri…” he whispered, sliding his hands down Yuuri’s bare chest. His hands trembled, as if he was afraid to touch Yuuri, as if this was not allowed for some reason.

“Victor…”

His hands reached Yuuri’s waist and stopped. “I don’t think I can take your pants off,” Victor admitted in a whisper.

Yuuri removed his pants and underwear without another word.

Victor’s arms twisted around Yuuri’s neck and pulled him down. Yuuri buried his face in Victor’s neck as the rest of him pressed down against Victor’s body.

“Yuuri…” Victor breathed into his ear.

He raised his head. “Victor, I need…”

Victor’s fingers were trailing through Yuuri’s hair, making it impossible to focus on what he was trying to say.

“What do you need?” Victor asked and then smiled. “Oh, of course! Silly of me to forget! Go…” he breathed out, letting Yuuri go.

Yuuri sat up and took Victor in. He just had to go to the next room. It was just a few seconds of separation and then he could keep going. But it was so hard to tear himself away.

He saw a question form in Victor’s eyes.

“Hold that thought,” Yuuri whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

And he ran as fast as he could.

He returned, out of breath and very pleased with himself.

“Now, where were we?” he asked and felt a little foolish. It was a silly thing to say. Was it a silly thing to say? He felt a little giddy. He was trying his best to ignore the heavy weight at the bottom of his stomach, that cold voice that kept saying “this is it: he will leave after this” in the back of his mind. There was just this moment, just him and Victor. And no one else.

Victor turned over onto his stomach, presenting his backside to Yuuri. It struck him then that he’d never had a chance to really admire Victor’s backside before.

Yuuri crawled over him with a big grin on his face. He pulled the condom on as quickly as he could and armed himself with a bottle of lube. Some things should not be rushed, he knew, and so he took his time running his hands over Victor. He caressed the man’s skin gently and watched Victor’s response. A gasp louder than all the others and Yuuri clicked the bottle open to pour liquid over his hands, which he then slid over Victor’s buttock.

He paused for just a moment. He was very aware of everything then: the sweat glistening on Victor’s back, the inviting curve of his buttocks, how his own thighs were pressing against Victor’s and how much he, himself, needed this.

His right thumb slid in between Victor’s butt cheeks and gave a slow tentative rub.

Victor’s breathing got louder.

Yuuri rubbed and stretched, getting lube everywhere. _This,_ he thought as Victor’s breathing matched the rhythm of his rubbing. _This!_

He shifted forward, covering himself with lube in the process and slipped his hands out right before pushing his whole self against Victor.

“Ah!” They gasped together.

They moved against each other in a slow and steady rhythm.

Yuuri hardly knew what he was doing. All he knew was that here was Victor and that he didn’t want this to ever stop. His mind went blank for a moment, for one long and very wonderful moment.

“Yuuri!” the sound of Victor’s voice brought him back to the present. “Yuuri!”

He reached down and planted a kiss on one of Victor’s shoulders before pulling away.

Victor made a noise in protest and Yuuri froze. “No, no, it’s fine.” Victor gripped the pillow with his hands and buried his face in it.

Yuuri rose on his knees and elbows. He removed his condom and tossed it aside. “Turn over,” he whispered.

Victor turned over onto his back and stared up at Yuuri. Yuuri slipped his arms around Victor and lowered his head to trail kisses down his chest.

“Yuuri…”

“I love you,” Yuuri whispered as he reached Victor’s stomach. He raised his head and met Victor’s eye. “I really love you,” he repeated. He needed Victor to know. More than that, he needed Victor to understand. He stroked Victor’s inner thigh with one hand as his other trailed up Victor’s outer thigh. He switched to Victor’s other leg.

Victor’s face was red. He shuddered under Yuuri’s touch. His lips kept trying to form words, but all he managed were soft moans.

“I’m going to catch my breath,” Yuuri whispered, leaning down and giving Victor’s right thigh a kiss, “and then I’m going to do you again.” He said the words in a breathy voice, doing his best to pitch it just right. He was seducing Victor again and he knew it. Victor was going to enjoy this so much he won’t have the heart to leave.

Victor pulled his legs in and raised himself on his elbows. “Kiss me, please.” He dropped back down on the pillow and reached out with both hands.

Yuuri leaned down, letting Victor hold him close. He let his body crash down against Victor’s as his mouth caught another long kiss. He pushed against Victor and pulled him closer as a voice in the back of his mind urged “More! More!”

Victor turned them both over, broke the kiss and sat up. “Now it’s my turn,” he said.

His eyes swept slowly over Yuuri. He reached out a trembling hand and let it trail down the middle of Yuuri’s chest. He drew two circles around Yuuri’s chest, going around his nipples and then down further to circle his belly button. His fingers went down Yuuri’s stomach and stopped.

Yuuri opened his mouth, trying to think of something encouraging to say, but then Victor let his hand slip down further. It slipped off Yuuri and onto the bed right between his legs.

There was a short pause as Yuuri tried to understand what had just happened.

Victor’s face turned deep red. “Sorry, my hands are slippery.”

 _No, I don’t think it’s your hands,_ Yuuri thought.

Victor put his other hand on Yuuri’s dick. He was hesitant at first, as if unable to believe that he’d really done it and then he let his fingers trail gently up and down.

“Isn’t it strange,” he whispered, “that there are parts of our bodies that it feels wrong to touch?” He put both hands under Yuuri’s dick and studied it thoughtfully.

Yuuri bit his lip to keep from commenting.

“Sorry if I get this wrong,” Victor whispered. “You made it look so easy.” He lowered his head and pressed brief kiss against Yuuri’s skin before opening his mouth.

Yuuri dropped back onto the pillows. Victor’s hands were on his hips, stroking him gently, as if trying to soothe him, but the effect on Yuuri was the opposite.

He couldn’t think. For a brief moment, he couldn’t even feel.

But when Victor released him and sat up, a single thought flashed through Yuuri’s mind and ruined the moment. _He’s going to leave me after this._

“Turn over, please,” Victor said. “I’ll…um find the bottle. I think I know how to use it.”

“Put…” Yuuri uttered and took another gulp of air, “put a condom on, please. You need to protect yourself.”

“How do I do that?”

Yuuri spun back around and sat up. “I’ll show you.”

He found the box on the corner of the bed and pulled out a little package as they sat facing each other. The package tore easily in his hand and he emptied its contents onto Victor’s open palm.

“Pull it over your dick,” Yuuri whispered and looked into Victor’s face.

Victor sat with an expression of innocent curiosity on his face. His hair fell messily over one side of his face. His cheeks were still flushed. He looked so beautiful in that moment that Yuuri felt his heart ache.

Victor fumbled with the condom and Yuuri took it out of his hands. “Let me,” he whispered. He pulled it over Victor as if he was merely buttoning up his coat. He saw Victor’s face spread in a smile and felt his heart give a painful tug. It wasn’t fair.

He dropped down onto his stomach and waited.

“I hope I don’t get this wrong,” Victor apologized, leaning over Yuuri.

Yuuri opened his mouth to insist that Victor wouldn’t when he felt the man’s hands slide over him gently. He gave Victor a few instructions after that, but the man didn’t seem to need any of them. He really _had_ paid attention during those movies!

Yuuri had never dated anyone who approached things the way Victor did. Most of his partners were very determined to get what they wanted, while assuming that Yuuri wanted the same thing, and once they got going, they weren’t likely to stop until they were done. Victor, on the other hand, was all tender touches and making sure that what he was doing wasn’t hurting Yuuri.

“I’m going to…um… push now,” Victor warned as he took his hands away.

“Please…”

Victor pushed.

“Ah!”

“Was… is that alright?”

“Yes!”

“Should I do it again?”

“Yes, please…”

After several questions like that, Yuuri told Victor to simply keep going. He wasn’t sure if he would be capable of coherent speech or thought after that. Victor seemed to understand this and accepted it without argument.

After what felt like an eternity (or, perhaps, no time at all) Victor began to pull away.

“More…” Yuuri breathed out.

“I can’t, Yuuri, sorry…” Victor pressed a gentle kiss against Yuuri’s shoulder and dropped onto the bed beside him.

Yuuri turned over.

They lay side by side, smiling at each other. If only they could just lie here like this for all eternity, Yuuri thought. He let his hand trail gently down Victor’s chest, past his stomach and then he had to shift a little so his hand could reach all the way to pull the condom off.

“Thank you,” Victor whispered.

Yuuri sat up and propped his chin up with one hand. The panic that had hidden so well before rose with a newly found force. _Victor will leave tomorrow,_ the fear whispered. _This is all there will ever be for you._

He had to fight the panic down somehow, so he imagined mornings when he would wake up with a giant pile of used condoms on the floor. He imagined Victor taking it all in and then whispering, “Did we use all that?”

“Yuuri? What’s wrong?”

Victor’s face was becoming blurry, as if someone had mixed too much water into their paints before trying to make his portrait. There were tears in Yuuri’s eyes.

Yuuri leaned down for a long kiss. He felt one of Victor’s hands rest on his shoulder and the other slip into his hair.

 _Stay with me,_ Yuuri willed with his kiss. _Stay._ He slid his body over and stuck on leg between Victor’s legs. _Stay._ His knee rose up, nudging Victor lightly.

Victor broke the kiss and wiped the tears off Yuuri’s face. “I love you,” he whispered.

He could feel more tears rising in his eyes. Yuuri spun them both around until he was the one who lay with his back resting on the pillow and Victor lay on top of him, his back resting on Yuuri’s chest. Victor reclined his head onto Yuuri’s shoulder. They twined their fingers together, studying them as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world.

Yuuri wanted to stay up all night. Maybe, if he was awake when morning came, then Victor would stay. Maybe then everything would be alright. But his body felt heavy. His eyelids closed on their own. He was comfortable between Victor’s soft mattress and Victor himself. This was…

Victor raised Yuuri’s hands to his lips. “Good night,” he whispered.

Darkness pulled Yuuri in, not letting him answer.


	12. The Future

Yuuri drifted from asleep to awake very slowly. At first, all he knew was that he was warm and comfortable. He turned over in his sleep and buried his face in the pillow. Sleep pulled away from him as his other senses woke up.

Something smelled like happiness. His mouth could barely open, but the smell was strong enough to make him think he could taste it. It was quiet around him. The world was not completely of sound, but all he could hear were repetitive noises he’d learned to ignore long ago. He felt a gentle touch, no – a light breeze on his cheek.

Then he recognized the smell of happiness: it smelled like Victor.

Yuuri opened his eyes. He could see the window and the white lace curtains swaying in the breeze. His next realization was that he was completely naked, but there was more than one blanket draped over him, covering him all the way up to his neck.

Yuuri turned over. The clock on the wall showed half past eleven. He sat up sharply. It was so late! He’d slept in!

He put his hands over his face. Slowly the memories of last night returned to him. He remembered having sex with Victor. Those memories were full of vivid detail, wonderful, amazing and very, very vivid detail. For a moment, he imagined he could hear Victor gasping.

Victor.

He turned his head, but the bed was empty. Only then did it hit him: the apartment was eerily quiet. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest.

It was over. Victor was gone.

He slipped out of the bed and went to take a shower. On his way out of Victor’s room he spotted his clothes folded neatly on the chair by the wall.

Yuuri walked over to them, hoping to find a note of some kind, but there was nothing.

 _Maybe he’ll come back. His stuff is still here. He can’t just leave everything behind. This is_ his _apartment, after all._

Except that Victor’s parents were rich enough to run an orphanage, which meant that they could afford to buy an apartment as well as everything inside it many times over.

An idea struck Yuuri and he walked over to the closet where Victor kept all his medals. They were still there.

And then he remembered Victor’s decision to retire. Maybe this was meaningless to him now, nothing more than a reminder of a life he couldn’t live anymore.

Yuuri fled to the bathroom, unable to deal with his grief anymore.

He stepped under the shower and turned the tap. As the water poured down over him, he realized that he still smelled like Victor. A sob escaped his chest and then he covered his face with his hands and broke down into crying.

It was over. His brief happiness had run its course. It was done.

He turned the water off and sat down on the edge of the bathtub.

Victor had enjoyed their time together. Victor really loved him, he was sure of it. How could he leave? How could he throw his own happiness away like that?

Yuuri remembered the smiles on the children’s faces as they ran out to greet him every time he visited. He remembered all the things they did for Victor and lately for him as well: the drawings, the concerts, the dances and the little plays. He remembered their New Year’s together. Two-hundred and thirty-seven little lives. He and Victor were adults. They were used to sadness and misery. They would find a way to pull through, but what about the children? Some of them had only learned to walk recently! Some needed medical supervision.

 _I’ve been selfish,_ he told himself. _Victor was brought up to think of others, but all I ever thought about was myself._ He turned his head and caught sight of his own reflection in the mirror. _What do I do now? I can’t live without him._

He remembered how he’d felt after his first real breakup, when he was sure that the world was ending. This time it was much worse.

 _We could’ve been together, you and I,_ Yuuri thought. _Maybe we still can._ He rose to his feet. He had to go confront Victor’s parents. Maybe he could try to reason with them. He had to keep trying. He couldn’t give up now.

He turned the water on, setting it to a warm temperature and closing his eyes. Memories flooded his brain, bringing a smile to his face.

The water poured over him. He felt lighter, as if the water was taking his troubles with it. He could believe that anything was possible. He allowed himself to hope.

Finally, he switched the water off and stepped out, taking his towel from the rack and wrapping himself in it. He held it tightly around his shoulders and closed his eyes. What he needed now more than ever was a hug.

And then he remembered about Makkachin.

Yuuri rushed out of the bathroom. “Makkachin!” he called.

But no one ran out to greet him.

He checked his room, then Victor’s. He walked through the living room and into the kitchen to check under the table, but Makkachin was nowhere to be found.

Victor had really left then.

Yuuri’s legs trembled under him. He wrapped his towel tighter around himself. He felt so weak and alone. What was he supposed to do now?

The lock clicked and Yuuri panicked. Who was this? Did Victor’s parents send someone to reclaim their son’s apartment?

He backed away to the corridor and considered hiding.

The door opened and Victor came in, leading Makkachin on a leash. “You’re awake!” he exclaimed. “Good morning! Makkachin was getting restless, so I thought I’d take him out for a walk. Sorry for leaving you.”

Yuuri let the towel fall on the floor. “Will you take _me_ now? I’m feeling restless.”

Phichit walked to the change room in a thoughtful mood. Yuuri hadn’t come to practice at all that day. Did he get sick? Was everything alright with him and Victor? Maybe he got that bug that was going around.

He thought about Yuuri’s revelation about Victor’s parents. Was this about that? What if Yuuri quit to go do something else that paid better? Phichit winced. They really didn’t pay well at the ballet, so he wouldn’t blame Yuuri if he _did_ decide to get another job.

As he neared the change room his thoughts turned to Chris. The texts from him just kept coming. It was fun. They exchanged jokes and suggestive comments. Phichit had actually started to look forward to getting messages from the skater. He wondered what was waiting for him this time.

It was a little strange. Phichit was used to getting hooked up for one night and never seeing the person again, so Chris dragging things out was surprising. Maybe he thought it was polite since they both knew Yuuri and Victor. Maybe it was his way of making sure that things didn’t get awkward if they ran into each other again.

Phichit smiled. _I’m an adult. I know how these things work._ He opened the door to the change room and stepped inside.

The first he saw as soon as he entered was Yuuri sitting with a dazed look on his face.

Phichit’s heart fell. He had a bad feeling about this.

“Yuuri?” he called gently, looking around himself to make sure there was no one here with them.

Yuuri raised his head. There was a faint flicker of recognition in his eyes and he managed a half-hearted “hello” before lowering his head again and staring at his hands.

“What happened?” Phichit sat down beside him. Pointless flirting could wait, he decided.

Yuuri shifted over a little to give Phichit more room and continued to say nothing.

“Yuuri?” Phichit called in a low voice and when that didn’t work he put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Yuuri?”

“Hmm… What?” He raised his head and made eye contact with Phichit at last.

“What’s wrong?” Phichit asked. He had to be careful, he knew. He’d let himself get carried away by curiosity before and he’d been caught off guard by the way Yuuri had snapped at him. He’d spent a long unpleasant evening afterwards, going over everything he’d said and cursing himself for being so nosy.

But this was different. Yuuri was in trouble and, if this had anything to do with their conversation the day before, then lots of it, so it was Phichit’s duty as a friend to help him out, right? He wasn’t being too nosy, was he?

Yuuri sat with his shoulders raised ever so slightly, looking shocked and terrified. There was something about him at vulnerable moments like this one that made you want to pull him into a hug and tell him everything was going to be ok. Or maybe it was just Phichit.

He put an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders, ready to pull away if Yuuri told him he didn’t want this.

“I had a… bit of a fight with our management,” Yuuri finally said. The words came out in a very low voice, as if he was terrified of hearing them himself.

“Oh no, Yuuri. You didn’t…” He _didn’t_ just get fired. Not Yuuri, not the best dancer among them! (Well, maybe second-best to Phichit.)

“I… uh… might have raised my voice at them,” Yuuri went on, probing the full horror of the situation.

Phichit felt his whole body weaken. It was a good thing he was sitting down, or he would have fallen over.

“And might have implied that they… exploit us,” Yuuri added.

Phichit was starting to hope that this was all just a nightmare. Any minute now he would wake up in his bed to a text from Chris about dreams and some kind of innuendo. He liked Chris’ innuendo. It was always funny.

“What happ – Why did you… uh… go talk to them?” Phichit asked, changing the question twice before he could get to the end of it. “Or…” his heart sank, “did they come to talk to you?”

Yuuri fiddled with his fingers. “I need money,” he said in a low voice.

 _And even more so now,_ Phichit thought and mentally cursed their management. Yuuri was right about the pay. It was ridiculous. In fact, it was ridiculous for ballet dancers everywhere, as if all the ballet companies had signed a secret agreement that said that they would underpay all the ballet dancers in the world.

“So I went to ask for a raise,” Yuuri added.

A raise. No one had asked for a raise since Mikhail had tried that years ago! Poor Misha! He’d vanished shortly afterwards and no one knew where he’d gone or what had happened to him.

Yuuri’s hands clenched into fists. “I don’t know what came over me, but on my way here I saw a homeless person on the street and suddenly I thought that if I don’t do something all those children will be out on the streets, beginning for money. They’re _children_ , Phichit!” He raised his head and tears glistened in his eyes. “It’s bad enough that they have no parents, why must they lose everything else too?”

Phichit gave Yuuri a hug. “But they _do_ have parents,” he insisted as gently as he could. “They have you and Victor.”

“Some parent I turned out to be!” Yuuri exclaimed sadly. “I can’t provide for all of them! And, to think – Victor wanted to send them all to universities!” He considered those words. “The ones that want to go, I mean.”

Phichit gave his head a light shake. That Victor! He was probably the most naïve person Phichit had ever met!

Yuuri wiped his eyes with his hand. “I marched into his office and told him that my salary barely changed when I became a prime dancer,” Yuuri recounted. “He just stared at me. And I couldn’t stop talking! I told him that I’ll quit, if he doesn’t give me a raise. And I…” his voice trailed off. He opened his hands and stared down at his palms.

“What?” Phichit asked after five whole minutes of silence went by.

“I got it. He agreed to give me a raise,” Yuuri said in a fascinated whisper. “He even promised to pay me the difference since I became a prime dancer.”

“Yuuri!” Phichit exclaimed. “I’m so proud of you!”

“What if he doesn’t do it, though?” Yuuri insisted. “I’ve been so stupid!” He put his hands over his face. “He was probably laughing at me. I mean, of course, he was! No one will seriously agree to something like that!”

Phichit regarded him thoughtfully. It _did_ sound too good to be true. “You’re probably right…” he began slowly. An idea was beginning to form in his mind. This wasn’t about Yuuri. _Technically_ it was, but it also wasn’t.

“What if he fires me?” Yuuri exclaimed, wringing his hands. “What do I do then? I don’t want to become a burden for Victor too!”

Phichit almost had it. He was so close.

Yuuri dropped his head in his hands. “I’ll go beg for money out in the street! I can’t let those children starve!”

“They won’t starve,” Phichit declared. Here it was at last. “I don’t need to go talk to the others to know that all of the ballet dancers will support you on this.”

“But what can we do?” Yuuri asked, raising his head.

“Easy,” Phichit told him, “we go on strike. No ballet performances until he pays you. I bet the musicians will back me up on this too.” He grinned. “What do you say to that?”

“We can’t… People won’t…” Yuuri protested faintly. “You can’t do that just for me.”

“We’re not doing it just for you,” Phichit corrected. “Remember how we worked together to put on a performance for the kids? Ask anyone who was in it and they’ll tell you that they’d love to do more!”

“But…” Yuuri protested faintly.

Phichit walked over to his locker and pulled out his phone. “Trust me on this.” He looked down at the screen. 34 messages from Chris. The last one came with an attached image. Chris could wait, he decided. As he opened the group chat for the principal dancers he wondered absently if all 34 messages had come with images and then wondered if they were photos of Chris.

 _Focus,_ he told himself. _Your flirting game can wait._

He sent out a message to the group, a cry for help, and waited for the responses to start pouring in.

Half an hour later, the change room was full of principal dancers. An hour after that the dancers had a plan.

Two weeks after the conversation recounted above and one evening after Yuuri returned home from practice, he placed something on the table in front of Victor.

Victor stared at the envelope in front of him and then up at Yuuri. A question appeared in his eyes.

Yuuri smiled. “I got a raise,” he said simply. “I reminded my boss that I didn’t get a raise when I was promoted to principal dancer and they gave me the difference they’ve been owing me since. It’s amazing how much it adds up over the years. Phichit said that we can fill out government forms to show that it’s all going to charity and we might get more money from the government. To be honest, he didn’t seem to be very clear on the details. Something about taxes, I think?”

Victor’s hands shook as he opened the envelope. He pulled a piece of paper out and stared at the total amount written on it.

“I’ll redirect it to your account,” Yuuri promised.

This didn’t feel right. Here was money that Yuuri should’ve had, money he should’ve spent on a better apartment, better furniture or better food. It was _his_ money. He had no right to take any of it.

“I know it’s not enough,” Yuuri went on, “but at least it’s something, right?”

Victor raised his eyes. “I could kiss you right now,” he whispered.

Yuuri leaned over him, took his head with his hands and pressed his mouth against Victor’s.

Victor closed his eyes as he responded. This was heaven! Sure, his conscience was whispering to him that what he was doing was wrong, but at least he was with Yuuri! They would find the money they needed. They would solve this.

He pulled Yuuri closer. It was lucky that he was seated in that moment because when Yuuri pushed against him, his head spun and he was sure that he would fall over.

No words could describe the pure bliss of this moment, how wonderful it felt to exchange kisses, or that magical instant when Yuuri pulled away a little to fiddle with Victor’s hair and look into his face. Yes, this was pure bliss.

“I love you,” Yuuri whispered, sliding a finger down Victor’s nose.

The words were like a spell. “I’ve never felt like this before,” Victor admitted. “When I’m with you and you say those words, I feel so happy.” His hands were wrapped around Yuuri’s waist, holding him close. “I’ve never felt this happy before.” He gave a sad smile. “These last few months were the best of my life. When you told me that you loved me, I felt on top of the world. Those words – Your feelings for me are more precious to me than all my medals.” He stared down at the table. “I know it’s not right, but this is how I really feel.”

For a few moments Yuuri was silent and Victor began to panic that he’d said something wrong. He tried to guess by the expression on Yuuri’s face what he thought about his confession, but Yuuri merely looked thoughtful.

“I think that if I had a lot of medals, I would feel the same,” he admitted at last. Although, it’s hard for me to judge, since I don’t.” He pulled his fingers through Victor’s hair, carefully arranging it.

Victor pressed his face against Yuuri’s chest and closed his eyes, breathing in the man’s scent.

“We can’t control how we feel about some things. Sometimes something makes me happy, but if you ask me why I don’t think that I’d be able to find an answer. Like smells – why do I like this smell, but not that one? I don’t know. Sometimes the answer is obvious: this place makes me happy, because I was happy when I visited it last time, but sometimes there’s no way to explain it.”

Victor pulled his head back and looked up into Yuuri’s face. He saw a smile appear there.

“Your love is very precious to me,” he went on. “More precious than anything out there. When I fell in love with you I knew that I wanted you to love me back.” He rubbed Victor’s nose with his own. “It’s so wonderful to hear that the person you love loves you back.” He pulled back. “And it’s so sad when the person you love doesn’t feel the same way about you.”

“I wish I could say we’ll have this forever,” Victor whispered, “but I’ve never loved anyone before. I’ve seen others fall in and out of love. I don’t want to be like that, but I don’t know what I will be like.”

Yuuri pressed his cheek against Victor’s. “I hope that we’ll be friends forever and that I can always say “you can count on me”.”

“Thank you.” Victor closed his eyes. The voice in the back of his mind, the voice that so often sounded like his mother’s, went silent. “My medals never brought me happiness,” he admitted after a short silence. “I was just winning them because it gave me something to strive for. I love figure skating. Not,” he hastened to add, feeling his cheeks burn, “not in the same way that I love you, of course. When I was small and I discovered figure skating I wanted to be out on the ice all the time.”

Yuuri looked into Victor’s face, listening intently.

Victor gave him a sad smile. “My parents said it was a good way to keep healthy and signed me up for lessons. After a few years my instructor insisted that I get into competitions and my parents never objected. I remember them telling me after my first Olympics that I am doing my duty to my country by representing it so well.”

A frown appeared on Yuuri’s face but he remained silent.

Victor waited to see if Yuuri would say something, but after a few minutes it became obvious that Yuuri wasn’t going to say anything and Victor continued. “I was so happy that they approved. I just kept competing and I hardly ever stopped to ask myself why I was doing it.”

Tears glistened in Yuuri’s eyes and rolled down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t apologize,” Victor said. “It’s not your fault.” He wondered then what sort of life he would’ve had if he’d never met Yuuri. Perhaps the n he would have done what his parents wanted. He closed his eyes. It was so hard, now he was with Yuuri, to imagine a life where he would have been happy married to a woman.

Yuuri pressed a kiss to his lips and then another to each of his cheeks. “What are you thinking about?” he whispered.

“Trying to imagine having a wife,” Victor confessed. It sounded so absurd that he broke out into laughter. Him! With a wife!

Yuuri was watching him with a sad look on his face. For a long time neither of them could decide what to say. Then Yuuri moved away, letting Victor go and breaking free of his hold. “Let’s have dinner,” he said.

Had he said the wrong thing? He studied Yuuri’s face, trying to guess by his expression if his words had offended Yuuri, but found no clue there.

 _I’ll make it up to you,_ he decided, rising to his feet and joining Yuuri at the fridge. “What would you like for dinner?”

Yuuri smiled at him. “What are you offering to make for me, chef?”

“Anything you like,” Victor said. Then, remembering himself, he added, “from what we have, I mean.”

Yuuri laughed. “I’m sure that anything you make will be delicious.”

They didn’t have a lot of ingredients. Victor had been surprised to learn how expensive a lot of the food he was used to buying was and he’d been forced to stop buying many of his favourite things. It broke his heart to be unable to give Yuuri the best out there, but he had no choice now.

“I talked to the agency Phichit recommended,” Victor admitted. “They’re going to do some photo tryouts tomorrow. If I turn out okay, I might get a job somewhere.”

“Victor, you’re the most photogenic person I’ve ever met!” Yuuri assured him. “Of course they’ll want to hire you!”

He smiled and acted as if he believed, while deep down inside he remained convinced that Yuuri was just being polite.

They settled for cooking rice with vegetables. Victor prepared the rice while Yuuri cut up the vegetables.

“Open your mouth,” Yuuri instructed.

Victor obeyed without question and Yuuri stuck a piece of pepper into his mouth. It was delicious. Victor closed his eyes and made a happy sound.

Yuuri pressed a kiss to Victor’s cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” he said in a fascinated voice.

How could anyone trade anything for this? How could he ever let go of this?

He thought about that other life, the one where he didn’t meet Yuuri, where he continued to live in comfort and did everything his parents wanted. Of course, it would’ve been so much easier like this. His pride would have accepted this, but not his heart.

 _“Depend on no one but yourself,”_ his mother always said, but here he was depending on Yuuri, on Phichit and on his coach and it didn’t feel as wrong as the thought of marrying someone he could never love did. He’d seen the way his coach got upset when he didn’t want to share what was bothering him and he knew in that moment that keeping his troubles to himself wasn’t right. It was a surprise to learn that Yakov preferred to share the burden rather than be kept in the dark about it.

“I decided not to retire just yet,” Victor suddenly admitted. “Yakov wants me to finish the season and I thought: if I can get enough from advertising, then maybe I can finish the season. I just need to go to Worlds.”

Yuuri looked at him.

“Do you… do you think it’s a bad idea?” Victor asked, unable to read the expression on the man’s face.

“Do what feels right to you,” Yuuri said. “I will support your decision, regardless if you choose to keep competing, or to retire.”

This response caught Victor off guard. What had he ever done to deserve someone like Yuuri? “Are you sure?”

“Of course! It’s up to you to decided, if you want to retire or not. We will figure something out to make sure that you can keep competing, if that’s what you want to do.”

“It’s not fair to you,” Victor protested.

Yuuri shook his head. “Please don’t say that.” He took Victor’s hand and raised it to his lips. “All of this isn’t fair to _you_.”

“I’ve been spoiled,” Victor said sadly. “I never had to work to support myself. Please don’t argue, Yuuri. I know that I’m spoiled. Or was.” He freed his hand gently and let his fingers brush over Yuuri’s cheek. “And I’m still very spoiled because I can be with you.”

Yuuri leaned his cheek against Victor’s hand and closed his eyes. “Then I’m spoiled, because I get to be with _you_.”

Two weeks later the world filled with images of Victor Nikiforov. Posters appeared in the streets, ads appeared on TV. It wasn’t overwhelming, but its appearance made people note that they’d never seen them before and led everyone to ask the question why. Why was Victor Nikiforov appearing in ads now? What changed?

Yuuri came home, feeling drained. He’d worked harder than ever that day in preparation of the opening night of Swan Lake. Now, with three hours before the performance, he needed to go home and rest a bit.

Victor opened the door for him with a smile and an apology. “Sorry for not meeting you. I thought I’d make dinner so you can eat right away.”

Yuuri caught him in a long kiss, his arms wrapping around Victor and holding him close.

Every day he asked himself if this was really true. Was this really his life now? This domestic bliss?

They pulled apart and Victor locked the door.

“I wish we had more time,” Yuuri said with a sly grin. “I really want to make love to you right now.”

Victor gathered Yuuri to his chest. “I’ll do my best to be patient,” he whispered into Yuuri’s ear.

And this was bliss too: flirting with Victor was getting better every day.

Yuuri put an arm on Victor’s shoulder. “What’s for dinner?”

“Chicken with noodles for the first course and,” now it was Victor’s turn to break into a smile, “Victor Nikiforov for the second one.”

Maybe learning how to flirt from porn movies was a bad idea, but Yuuri enjoyed every minute of this.

His hand slipped off Victor’s shoulder to make way for his head and he said with his eyes half-closed, “You’re making me wish I could skip the first course.”

Victor turned his head, slipped his shoulder free and took Yuuri’s head with both hands. He leaned forward and Yuuri closed his eyes completely.

He breathed Victor in. Maybe they could get just a quick one in, just a little something. Maybe he could just–

The doorbell rang, startling both of them and interrupting the kiss before it could even begin.

“Who is that?” Yuuri asked, stepping away and blinking at Victor. “Did you invite someone over?”

“No.” He released Yuuri and made for the door. “Who is it?” he called out loudly.

Makkachin was already at the door, pawing at the handle.

“Makkachin, sit!” Victor commanded.

The dog dropped obediently and wagged his tail.

“Is Mr. Victor Nikiforov there?” an unfamiliar voice called through the door.

“Yes.” Victor turned the lock and opened the door.

A man stood in the hallway. He was in a postman’s uniform. “I have a letter here for you,” he said, holding it out to Victor.

“But we’re in an apartment building…” Yuuri mumbled.

“The instructions are to deliver it into Victor Nikiforov’s hands,” the postman replied. “I just need to see proof of your identity.”

“Yes, of course.” Victor hurried off to his room while Yuuri stood in front of the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

His eyes were fixed on the envelope, trying to read the name of the sender. The postman’s thumb was clamped down over it, covering most of the letters.

When, at last, Victor returned, Yuuri caught a moment when the thumb shifted away and he read the name that was on the envelope. His heart fell. He didn’t have a good feeling about what would happen next.

Once the postman was satisfied that Victor was the person he’d been looking for, he handed the letter over in exchange for a signature and left.

Victor closed the door and walked over to the couch, holding the letter, as if afraid that it was about to explode. He dropped onto the couch and continued to stare at it.

Yuuri locked the door and joined Victor.

“It’s from my mother,” Victor whispered and looked into Yuuri’s eyes.

Yuuri nodded to show that he understood. What did she want this time?

Hands trembling, Victor turned the letter over and opened it.

The paper inside contained a very short message and was signed very dryly with just his mother’s name.

“My parents, they’re…” Victor trembled.

Yuuri put his arms around Victor and held him close.

“…they’re saying that I’ve shamed the family name,” he continued in a whisper, “so they’re…”

Yuuri took the letter out of Victor’s weakened hold and tossed it aside. He took both of Victor’s hands with his own, his eyes sinking into Victor’s. “Don’t listen to them,” he said softly. “Listen to me. You can be anything you want to be, Victor. If you decide to model for _Playboy_ , I’ll be the first in line for a copy of the magazine with your photos. If you want to do something completely different with your life, I will be right behind you, cheering you on.” He saw Victor look away and took his face with his hands, not turning it, just holding on to him. “Take my last name,” he offered in a whisper. “We don’t have to get married, if you don’t want to. Just take it to remind yourself of my promise to you. I will always be there for you, no matter what happens.”

Victor met Yuuri’s eye. “Yuuri, you don’t have to do this for me.”

“I want to. We’re family, Victor, and family means taking care of each other,” Yuuri declared.

“I love you,” Victor whispered. Tears rolled down his cheeks, but he kept speaking, “I really love you.”

Yuuri leaned forward to kiss Victor, but stopped a few centimeters away. “Ever since I met you, I thought…” He slid his hand down the side of Victor’s face, “I thought we could have a big wedding. I wanted to give you a big wedding, but now I know that I really can’t.” He could imagine it all too well – Victor in a beautiful white suit, arriving at the venue in a golden carriage. The carriage would come to a stop and Yuuri would walk up to the door with his hand held out to help Victor step out.

“I got to thinking last night, after you fell asleep,” Victor began, “that it’s so strange that we know each other for less than a year. Can you believe it? It’s only been a few months since we first talked to each other, but I feel as if I’ve known you my whole life. I feel as if I’ve seen every side of you. Is it strange?”

Yuuri pulled Victor in a tight hug.

“Give me your last name,” Victor whispered, placing his hands on Yuuri’s back. “Promise you’ll look after me and I’ll give you my whole self in exchange.”

“I promise.”

That evening all the seats in the Theatre were full. Victor arrived an hour early and watched the crowds grow bigger with every passing minute. Women walked past him, dressed in evening gowns, charring excitedly to each other. Little girls and boys asked their parents one question after another, curious to know everything. Victor caught sight of a girl in a tulle skirt run by and thought of those children, _his_ children.

Yuuri and he had visited them the day before. Yuuri had looked on the verge of tears for most of their visit and Victor had known his own heart was breaking. He’d been forced to go up in front of them and admit that there would be no field trips for the next little while. He’d seen the dejected looks on their faces and felt the weight of their disappointment.

 _I will find a way to fix this,_ he’d promised himself.

Afterwards while they were having lunch together, Yuuri had pulled him aside for a quick word, doing his best to reassure him. The whispered conversation had ended in kisses.

The bell rang three times, bringing Victor out of his reverie. He made for his seat as his mind turned the memories over and over again.

The lights dimmed and Victor sat in the dark, thinking about kisses exchanged in secret. Then he thought about Yuuri’s proposal, the first one Victor had been foolish enough to turn down.

Suddenly, there Yuuri was – out on the stage, dressed like a prince charming.

 _Why like?_ Victor asked himself. _He_ is _Prince Charming!_ His fingers closed around his ring finger. There was nothing there, of course, but he remembered the ring Yuuri had offered to him during his first proposal. _Stupid! Stupid! Why didn’t I take it then? Don’t I already know that he’s willing to do everything for me? He’s been the family I never really had and_ this _,_ his fingers tightened over the spot where the ring would have been if he’d accepted it, _this is just us admitting the fact._

He watched Yuuri, graceful, beautiful Yuuri with his delicate movements and his kind heart. Yuuri, who’d – and even now Victor blushed deeply at the memory – climbed over him the night before, making a thorough study of his body and especially that part of Victor that was between his legs. Yuuri, who would make him go weak and gasp for more, and then take such good care of him afterwards.

He loved falling asleep next to Yuuri, their bodies pressed against each other, Yuuri’s breathing slowing in time with his. He loved waking up beside him the next morning. And he loved Yuuri.

He’d had to cut all expensive ingredients from his diet. He abandoned most of his spices, trying to survive with just salt and pepper. Shopping for food had become an exercise in math, and so did almost everything else. Last time they’d gone to the orphanage, they’d borrowed a pair of bikes from their friends. But what was all that when he knew he had Yuuri there with him?

On the stage, Yuuri pretended to fall in love and Victor wondered when he’d known. When had Yuuri realized his feelings for Victor? And then he thought about when he’d known and when it had actually started.

 _You bewitched me when I first saw you dance,_ Victor decided. _And I’ve been yours ever since._

Phichit watched Yuuri dance from backstage. He didn’t need to be here. He wasn’t performing tonight, but he liked to see the opening night of every ballet and he liked being seen to be there just so everyone knew that he’d come to support them.

The artistic director had stated flat out that Yuuri would be there on the opening night and no one had argued this time. Yuuri was becoming more than a principal dancer. When they protested for his raise, they were protesting for each other and not only because others among the principal dancers got raises after the strike, but because there was something about Yuuri that represented them all. Or maybe they wanted him to represent them all, he wasn’t sure.

Yuuri had a way of winning your heart that made you feel as if you could do more by his side.

Phichit wondered if he himself ever had that effect on anyone. And then he wondered what effect he had on Chris, apart from filling him with a mad desire to spam Phichit with naked photos of himself. (Phichit had responded with a few of his own, but artfully cropped them to not be too revealing.)

He had a date with Chris tonight, but here he was – watching Yuuri dance and thinking about life in general.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

 _I’m outside the Theatre,_ Chris texted. _I didn’t realize Swan Lake premiered tonight. You’re probably out on the stage right now and won’t read this until later. I’ll just wait in a nearby café._

Phichit pocketed his phone. It was only their second date. It was best to leave Chris to wait and fill with anticipation. That always resulted in better sex, in his experience.

Someone walked past him and he barely recognized Yuuri. The man’s face was glowing. He radiated more joy than Phichit had ever seen from him before.

 _The performance must be going well,_ Phichit thought.

He must’ve made some sort of sound then that gave him away, because Yuuri turned and spotted him.

“Phichit!” he exclaimed, rushing over to his friend. “I didn’t realize you were here! What luck! I was just thinking that I ought to invite you!”

“Invite me to what?” Phichit asked and then laughed. “Your wedding with Victor?” He’d meant it as a joke, of course, so he wasn’t prepared for the way Yuuri’s smile grew even wider at those words.

“Yes!”

“Wow!”

“I suppose…” Yuuri’s face fell. “It’s not _really_ a wedding,” he admitted in a sad voice. “I offered him my last name and he said yes.”

“That’s an interesting way to describe it, but it still sounds like a wedding to me,” Phichit pointed out to him.

Yuuri opened and closed his mouth, obviously trying to think of an argument against this and failing. “I suppose it does,” he admitted. “What I really meant was that we’re just signing a marriage contract. We’re not going to have a big wedding.”

Phichit stopped himself just in time. He was about to ask why when he remembered about the money troubles. He opened his mouth to ask about that and realized that he didn’t have the faintest clue how to ask the question in a way that wouldn’t offend Yuuri. Was he being too nosy again? He didn’t know.

He needed something to talk about, so he forced himself to imagine the wedding just so he could say something about it.

“Can I be your best man?” he asked and felt himself get excited by the idea. “I know you’re just signing a piece of paper, but you’ll need witnesses, right?

“Will you be my witness?” Yuuri asked, his tone sounding far too formal for the question.

Phichit grinned. “Yes, of course!”

They turned to watch other ballet dancers go past them as the intermission began.

“So,” Phichit said after a long pause, “is that friend of Victor’s coming to be his witness?”

He felt Yuuri study him wordlessly and did his best to keep expression neutral.

“He is,” Yuuri admitted. “He said he was dropping by for a visit anyway, so he was glad to be here for this too.”

Phichit considered his next words carefully. “You make it sound as if you’re going to be married this week!”

“Tomorrow,” Yuuri clarified. Then he gave Phichit an anxious look. “You will be free tomorrow, right?”

“I might be,” Phichit teased.

“It’s not going to take long,” Yuuri insisted and then he saw Phichit’s smile. “You’re just teasing me, aren’t you?”

Phichit laughed. “I very definitely am.” He tried to imagine what it would be like – two people obviously very, very in love with each other getting married in a civil office in the most official and cheapest way possible. He didn’t even have enough time to find a present for them!

He also had a hot date for that evening (and, very likely, night).

He glanced at his phone, saw the time and imagined Chris sitting all by himself at a café filled with the Friday night crowd.

“Are you alright?”

“I need to go,” Phichit said. “And you need to get ready. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave Yuuri his most infections smile and felt a pang of satisfaction when Yuuri grinned back. “Text me the details of when and where, ok? I need to run.”

“Ok!” Yuuri walked away and then turned around. “Say hi to Chris for me!” he added and walked away.

Phichit felt blood rise to his cheeks and cursed himself. But as he walked away a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He was going to do more than just say hi to Chris.

Chris stared at his third cup of coffee and wondered if having another one was a good idea. He was tired after his flight here, definitely, and he needed to stay awake for as long as possible, but he wasn’t sure that caffeine would help the night go well. Not that he’d ever tested it out.

He thought about Victor and his unexpected invitation. To be fair, it wasn’t all that unexpected. It was only that when he thought about Victor getting married, he imagined it would happen after at least five years of pining and about a year after the inevitable confession. Victor was that kind of person, or so Chris had thought.

There were a lot of surprises about this wedding. One was the lack of grand banquet and the second was that when Chris had jokingly asked if Victor’s last name would become Nikiforov-Katsuki or Katsuki-Nikiforov, Victor had stated simply that they would become Yuuri and Victor Katsuki. The tone alone was enough to tell Chris that any further probing was a bad idea. All this led Chris to conclude that something had happened to push the wedding forward, not giving anyone time to prepare anything.

He wondered what it could possibly be and then if it was a good idea to ask Victor about it directly. Probably not.

Maybe Phichit knew the answer. He lived in the same city as they did, so maybe he’d seen something that could shed some light on this mystery.

If he ever got here, Chris thought darkly. Phichit’s latest responses had come across as cold and he wasn’t sure Phichit was happy that he’d come here.

He scowled. Three coffees _had_ been a bad idea. The effect was the same as the one he got after too much alcohol. He was feeling miserable. The world was a terrible place.

“Good evening!” a cheery voice rang out above him. “I didn’t realize it was coffee contemplation hour already!”

Chris raised his head and saw Phichit standing over him with a grin on his face. The grin faltered at the expression on Chris’ face.

“Can anyone join, or is it too late now?” Phichit asked, his tone cautious.

Chris waved at the empty chair across from him. “I was just thinking what effect caffeine has on performance in bed.”

Phichit stared at the cup thoughtfully. “It is a very interesting question,” he agreed.

They sat in silence for a while, like two professors contemplating a whole new area of study no one had ever considered before.

“I suppose we could try to find out?” Phichit said after what felt like an hour had passed. The words had come out hesitantly, not at all in the tone Chris had hoped for.

He sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “Listen, you and I are both adults, so let’s be honest with each other.”

Phichit looked like a student caught skipping class. He nodded. “Alright.”

They were in a café filled with people and with noise. All around them conversations buzzed. Music played over the speakers. A barista shouted out orders from time to time and people went up to pick them up.

Chris’ eye took Phichit in. He was dressed for a night out. His hair was neatly arranged on his head and there was a subtle hint of makeup on his face. What was he expecting from their meeting tonight?

Chris leaned forward and opened his mouth, considering his question carefully. “Do you want to keep going?” he finally asked.

Phichit’s eyes widened in surprise.

Chris gave a nonchalant shrug, doing his best to look like it was all the same to him. “Look, I’ve had lots of fun messaging you and I really enjoyed our time together, but you don’t have to be here if you don’t want to be.”

“I want to be!” Phichit exclaimed. Colour spread over his cheeks, but he smiled wide, as if that didn’t matter. “I… I want to be with you…” the answer seemed to surprise even him a little.

“Well, let’s give it a go, then, shall we?” Chris nudged Phichit’s knee lightly with his own. “Where do you want to go next? We can go for dinner, if you’re hungry.”

Phichit met his eye. “Are _you_ hungry?” he asked.

Chris gave Phichit the kind of look that usually made his partners break out into a cold sweat. “Definitely.”

“In that care, I know a great place for dinner!” Phichit announced, rising to his feet.

Chris let him lead the way. Maybe the evening wasn’t going exactly as he’d hoped, but it was certainly getting better with every minute.

And it _did_ only get better after that, since it soon turned out that the promised great place for dinner turned out to be Phichit’s own apartment.

Phichit went from asleep to awake in a matter of seconds. He was suddenly very aware that someone’s limbs were digging into his side in a very painful way. He turned over and opened his eyes.

Chris lay asleep next to him, his face completely relaxed. He shifted a little and went on sleeping.

Phichit shook his head at himself and reached out for his phone to check the time. It was 11:30. He swore softly and rolled out of bed. He had no idea how late it had been when they’d finished, but it must’ve been really late, because he felt like he needed another night of sleep. His body ached.

He walked over to the full length mirror in his room and frowned at his reflection. There were marks all over his skin too!

He caught sight of a smiling face in the mirror and turned around.

Chris sat, propped up against the pillows, and looked on in admiration.

“I had a feeling that you were awake,” Phichit said and raised an eyebrow.

“Just admiring the view.” It wasn’t the most original response, but then Chris was probably as awake as he was. “Why don’t you come here, so I can get a better look?”

“I can’t. Yuuri and Victor are getting married in four hours and I didn’t even get a chance to buy them a present.” Phichit made for the bathroom, but stopped in the doorway to add, “You’re welcome to stay here, if you want.”

Chris was at his side in an instant. “Or, we can shower together. It will save time.”

Phichit snorted. “I doubt it. If last night is anything to go buy, you won’t leave me enough time to go shopping.”

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” Chris whispered in that dangerous tone that was loaded with meaning.

 _How desperate are you?_ Phichit wondered.

Chris was only a step away and Phichit felt the temptation to close that distance and make them both return to the bed. But he couldn’t. He’d promised Yuuri to be there and Chris had to be there too. And they both knew that they couldn’t come empty-handed.

“I suppose it could save time if you rub soap into my back,” Phichit conceded. “Don’t get carried away.”

“I promise I won’t,” Chris said with an innocent look that didn’t fool anyone.

They made for Phichit’s bathroom together.

Phichit stepped in first and Chris followed, pulling the curtains closed after him. Phichit turned the water on and let the warm water pour over him. He turned to face Chris.

The man held up a bar of soap with a smile.

Phichit turned again to offer up his back. The soap slid over his shoulders, the tips of Chris’ fingers brushing against his skin from time to time. Phichit closed his eyes. In that moment, he was very conscious of his situation: standing naked in the shower with a hot man as naked as he was, who just happened to be rubbing his shoulders with a bar of soap. The soap passed over his shoulder blades. It went down and Phichit braced himself for something suggestive, but the soap went on to his legs. It scrubbed at his inner thighs, making his breath catch in his throat. His calves were next and then Chris asked him to turn again.

He turned around.

Chris was on his knees before him, still washing his legs.

The soap slid up Phichit’s inner right thigh, slowing down and stopping at last a little above his knee.

Phichit braced himself a second time, but the soap merely switched to his left leg. It then went down to his heel. And back up again.

Chris shifted forward a little. His head was right in front of Phichit’s dick now. He covered Phichit’s hips with soap as if he hadn’t noticed this last detail.

“You missed a spot,” Phichit pointed out.

The soap glided over his skin, down his stomach and came to a stop.

Phichit let out a gasp.

Chris very pointedly rubbed the soap right above the spot. “I think the water is too warm,” he said.

“Yes…”

“I’ll make it colder.”

Phichit nodded without thinking.

Chris reached around him for the tap, his head coming even closer.

 _Maybe I should just let him…_ But no, that was a bad idea. He could get stuck in his bedroom for a whole day, if he gave in now.

Chris shifted away. “Done.”

Phichit’s whole body was burning so much, that he felt no difference in temperature. Still he nodded. “Thanks!”

The soap went up to his chest, to one side, around, and down the middle of his chest. Just as it neared one of Phichit’s nipples the soap slipped out of Chris’ hand and hit the bathtub with a loud clatter. Chris’ hand grazed Phichit’s nipple and Chris crouched down to pick the soap up.

The bar was right between Phichit’s feet.

Chris’ head slipped in between Phichit’s legs as he retrieved the bar of soap and then up, his cheeks brushing against Phichit’s inner thighs as if by accident.

If this was meant to be a game, Phichit was sure that he was losing. His hand slipped into Chris’ hair. “You’re still missing a spot,” he whispered.

There was a crooked grin on Chris’ mouth. It was both irritating and exciting Phichit. He leaned closer, his eyes fixed on Phichit’s face. He stopped a few centimeters away. Phichit could feel Chris’ breath on his dick.

“Will you wash me too?” Chris asked as one of his hands stroked Phichit’s right hip.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” Chris replied and his mouth closed over Phichit.

He was going to be late. He was going to come empty-handed and late to his friend’s wedding! And so was Chris. And they were probably the only ones invited too!

“Stop…” he moaned as his body begged for the opposite.

Chris released him and rose to his feet. “You were right,” he admitted, “I _did_ get carried away.”

His hands passed the soap over Phichit’s body, up his torso, covering all of his chest and then his neck.

“We can do it properly tonight,” Chris promised in a whisper and kissed Phichit’s shoulder.

Phichit’s hand searched the wall behind him until he found the tap. He turned the water off. “Tonight?” he echoed, his mind painting the full horrors of his late arrival and putting them up before his eyes. “I… I need to go…” he went on, forgetting what they were talking about. He opened the curtain and stepped out.

He dried himself off as quickly as he could and rushed to his room to get dressed. He was _not_ going to be late. He was _not_!

Only when he was ready to go and opening his door did he remember about Chris. He glanced at his watch. He only had three hours left! He had to go _now_!

“I’ll be back in an hour!” he called out and locked the door behind himself.

Phichit really was a puzzle. One moment he was flirting with Chris and the next – he was running off to fetch things for his friend, having apparently forgotten all about Chris’ existence.

 _If Yuuri wasn’t about to marry Victor, I would’ve been really jealous right now,_ he thought. But an inner voice told him that he was jealous regardless. _They must be really close friends,_ he tried to reason with himself. _They’ve known each other for… a long time, probably._

He wasn’t just jealous: it hurt his pride that someone he was trying to seduce ran off halfway through his flirting to do something for another person.

_Phichit and I barely know each other. He probably still sees me as the guy he had a one night stand with. I should back up and start at the beginning._

He studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror with a sad smile. _Am I really making plans to turn someone into my boyfriend?_ But he knew that it couldn’t be any other way. He’d spent too much of his life chasing after hot men to stop doing it now. Besides, it would keep his mind from thinking too hard about the fact that Victor was getting married before he was.

Married! Victor! And, to think, a year ago Chris had been convinced that Victor had no feelings for anyone whatsoever! A year ago he would’ve laughed at the thought that Victor could fall in love and here he was – Victor’s best man at a wedding!

 _Only because there’s no one else to do it,_ Chris thought and gave a sad sigh.

He walked back to the bedroom and checked the time. Phichit would be back soon. He had to be ready to leave as soon as he returned. Luckily for him, he already had a present for the grooms.

The wedding wasn’t grand, but, in its own way, it was perfect. When all was said and done, what did Victor really need? They invited the few friends they had, which for him meant Chris and Yakov, and for Yuuri meant all the principal dancers from the Theatre. It didn’t seem like much, but when he and Yuuri arrived at the government office, the group looked like a little crowd.

They hadn’t arrived in a limo, but simply walked down the street, arm in arm, dressed in their absolute best.

Everyone cheered as soon as they spotted them coming and then ran towards them, surrounding them on all sides and chatting excitedly all at the same time.

“Thank you for coming, everyone,” Victor said and his eye fell on Yakov.

The old coach gave him an encouraging nod.

“Wouldn’t miss this for the world!” Phichit declared beside him and everyone laughed.

Chris came forward, holding something white out to him. It was wrapped in a red ribbon and, for a moment, Victor was reminded of the old Russian custom of greeting visitors with salt and a loaf of bread on top of a long piece of cloth. “My wedding present for you,” he announced.

Victor and Yuuri reached out at the same time. Yuuri untied the ribbon and Victor held up the present itself. It turned out to be a veil made of very delicate white lace.

“It’s so beautiful!” Yuuri exclaimed. “Thank you!”

“My mother made it,” Chris explained. “She’s very good at fine lacework.” Victor saw the fond smile on his friend’s face. “She always insists that there must be a lace veil at every wedding.”

Victor felt Yuuri’s eyes on him. “Shall we…?” he whispered.

Victor draped the veil over Yuuri, but Yuuri raised one end and draped it over Victor’s head as well.

Everyone around them clapped.

 _I want to kiss you so badly right now,_ Victor thought, mesmerized by the sight of the white lace draped over Yuuri’s soft black hair. His eyes took in the curve of Yuuri’s mouth next.

“Save kiss until the ceremony is finished!” someone exclaimed.

Laughter followed the comment.

Yuuri leaned on Victor’s arm and lowered the veil so that it stretched from his left shoulder to Victor’s right. “Let’s go?” he asked in a low voice.

Victor nodded.

They entered the small grey building and went up a poorly-lit staircase. Paint peeled off the walls in places, in others the wall was covered with graffiti. An unclean smell hung in the air.

Yuuri’s hold on Victor tightened. There was a sparkle in his eyes.

 _This is happening_ , Victor thought. _It’s really happening! I’m getting married! More than that – I’m getting married to the most wonderful person in the world!_

When will he get to kiss Yuuri? How long did it take to get married?

As it turned out, it didn’t take long to get married. The clerk said a few words. He and Yuuri signed a piece of paper. Then Chris and Phichit took turns signing it too and the clerk gave everyone a sour smile.

“Dear newlyweds,” she said in a bored voice, “congratulations on being married. Look after each other. Take care to live in love and in peace with each other and you will find happiness in life.”

Yuuri took Victor’s hand very carefully with his own and slipped the ring over Victor’s ring finger. “I don’t have much,” he said, “but it’s all yours. I promise to look after you, no matter the circumstances. Whether you are in good or bad health, I will be there by your side. Your troubles will be my troubles and your happiness will be my happiness.” He draped the veil over Victor’s head, leaving his face open. He closed his eyes and leaned in for a kiss.

“I promise to look after you too, Yuuri,” Victor said, determined to get his vows in before the kiss. “I know that I can’t offer very much, but I what I have is yours.” He watched Yuuri open his eyes. He wanted to kiss Yuuri _now_. He _needed_ to. “Um… where is your ring?” he asked and winced at how bad it sounded.

Yuuri coloured. “I only had enough money for one,” he admitted in a low voice.

“I think you forgot something,” Phichit pipped up. “You left something precious with me yesterday, remember Yuuri?”

“What?” Yuuri turned around.

Everyone watched as Phichit took a little box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal a ring identical to the one on Victor’s finger.

“What…?” Yuuri whispered in disbelief.

“I looked after it for you,” Phichit stated, as if that explained anything. He came forward, closing the box and holding it out to Victor.

They were both very simple gold rings, but if each one was made from real gold, they had to have cost a fortune. Victor saw the looks that Phichit and Yuuri exchanged and understood, but said nothing. This could wait until a different time.

Victor reached out for the ring. Phichit opened the box once more and took the ring out to place it on Victor’s palm.

This time both Victor’s and Yuuri’s hands trembled as the ring slipped on over Yuuri’s ring finger.

“I love you,” Yuuri whispered. It was, without a doubt, the best vow in the world.

“I love you too.” He reached over and caught a kiss. His arms circled Yuuri’s body as Yuuri’s arms wrapped around Victor’s neck.

The veil slipped down over both of them.

This was true happiness, Victor thought, complete and perfect happiness! Yuuri’s mouth was warm and soft against his. His body leaned into Victor’s. He felt the gentle touch of the veil and felt oddly safe.

Yuuri ended the kiss and they stared at each other under the intricate white lace.

Victor’s heart was overflowing with joy. It was everywhere now, spilling out into the world. It was in Yuuri’s eyes and his smile. It was in the shouts coming from all around him.

“The ceremony is complete. Please vacate the area. I have another wedding in 15 minutes,” the clerk’s cold voice cut in.

But even that couldn’t dampen Victor’s mood. He had to go out into the world and share his joy, his wonderful joy that knew no bounds.

Yuuri slipped the veil off them and draped it over his own shoulders. “Let’s go?” He offered his arm.

Victor leaned against it. “Lead and I will follow you to the ends of the world.”

“You two are so sweet!” Phichit exclaimed, raising his phone and snapping several photos. “How about some hugs for the guests?”

They all crowded around the two of them, exchanging hugs and kisses on the cheeks as well as congratulations.

“You are very lucky,” one of the ballet dancers told Victor. “Remember my words! Thirty years from now you will wake up next to Yuuri and think “I am the luckiest man alive because Yuuri Katsuki is my husband”!”

“I _am_ the luckiest man alive because Yuuri Katsuki is my husband,” Victor repeated simply.

“Really…” Yuuri tried to protest. His face was pink with embarrassment.

Victor couldn’t help it: he leaned forward and gave Yuuri another kiss.

“You all need to leave _now_!” the clerk’s voice boomed, cutting into this perfect moment.

Victor pulled away and gave everyone around him an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that.”

“No, no, don’t apologize!” the others protested.

He followed them all down the stairs and out into the street. His head was spinning. He felt like he could do anything. On days like this everything was bound to work out and go his way.

Yuuri was radiant. He laughed and exchanged jokes with everyone around him all while holding on to Victor and throwing frequent glances in his direction as if to say “We’re here! Can you believe it?”

“Where to now, newlyweds?” Chris asked.

The smile on Yuuri’s face faltered and Victor felt a cloud drift over his clear sky. They exchanged a glance. “I… we don’t have a restaurant booked, or anything,” Yuuri admitted after a short and awkward pause.

“Don’t worry about that,” Phichit said breezily. “We’ll all treat you to dinner in that nice new place near Kazan Cathedral and then we can go party at one of the clubs nearby.”

Victor’s eyes fell on Yakov. To his surprise, the old coach didn’t object to any part of this plan.

Since everyone – especially the newlyweds – liked this plan, that’s what they decided to do. It was the reason why midnight found them both dancing their hearts out next to each other.

The music pounded loudly all around them and Victor found that he wasn’t thinking about anything, not their future, not the night that would follow (which would really be morning, anyway), not even how to dance. He was lost in the moment, moving next to Yuuri. Every time they brushed against each other he felt sparks spread through his body. It was like magic.

A slow song came on next, completely at odds with all the previous songs that had played until that point and Yuuri put his arms around Victor’s waist. Victor let his own hands rest on his husband’s shoulders and they swayed gently to the beat.

Everything was like a dream, a long beautiful dream that he didn’t want to ever come to an end.

As the song finished, Yuuri caught Victor’s mouth with his own in a long and warm kiss. The dancefloor was packed with people on all sides, but to Victor they all seemed to have melted away. There were only two people in the whole world. There was only this moment here and now. It was definitely magic.

Somewhere between 3 and 4 in the morning the club closed and everyone was told to go home, but even then the dream seemed to continue.

“I guess Yakov left earlier,” he heard someone say.

“Did you see the way he danced? I didn’t think the old man had it in him!” someone else exclaimed.

The words meant something, but he couldn’t understand them. All of his attention was on Yuuri and Yuuri’s bewitching smile.

“Let’s go home,” Yuuri said and the smile took on an extra meaning.

“Let’s go home,” Victor echoed, not really sure he understood what he’d just said himself.

The others walked them to Victor’s apartment building, making jokes and laughing at them the whole way. What were they laughing about? What was so funny? Was he supposed to laugh to?

He had no way of knowing.

“ _Then the guests, with solemn air, led the newly wedded pair to their iv’ry couch, snow-white, where they left them for the night,_ ” Phichit recited and Chris clapped him on the shoulder.

Victor blinked at him absently. The words sounded familiar, but he couldn’t remember where he’d heard them before.

Chris and Phichit exchanged glances like two conspirators and Victor wondered what they were planning.

“I suppose this means that we should accompany our newlyweds all the way up to their bed,” Chris mused aloud.

More laughter followed this comment.

Yuuri laughed along. “Just the doorway is fine.” So he understood all the jokes, but why couldn’t Victor? And why…?

It occurred to him then that he was starting to fall asleep. He forced himself to stay awake as best as he could, terrified of nodding off while standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

The big company followed them up to the door of Victor’s apartment and then each of them took turns wishing Yuuri and Victor luck. Victor accepted as best as he could. He just wanted to sleep. His eyelids had never felt this heavy before!

“Good night, everyone!” Yuuri called out, turning around to unlock the door.

“Good morning!” Phichit corrected and more laughter followed.

“Alright, everyone,” Chris interrupted. “Time for us to go.” He winked at Victor and took Phichit by the arm to lead him away.

Victor followed Yuuri into their apartment.

The lock closed with a click and, suddenly, Victor found himself caught between the wall and Yuuri. They exchanged another long and deep kiss. Yuuri’s hands were on the wall, on either side of Victor. One of his legs slipped in between both of Victor’s.

“Yuuri…” he whispered, pulling away from the kiss.

Yuuri’s eyes were closed. “Mmm…” He opened them and studied Victor’s face. “My dear husband,” he paused and they both enjoyed the sound of those words. “My dear husband, you look ready to fall over. Let’s get you into bed.”

Victor opened his mouth to say that he didn’t feel sleepy anymore, but stopped as soon as he caught sight of the glint in Yuuri’s eyes. He nodded numbly.

“Good boy,” he whispered and stepped away.

It was only then that they remembered about poor Makkachin, who they’d left with their neighbour.

“I hope Ludmila doesn’t mind,” Yuuri said, “but I’m not going to wake her up now.” He turned away as he spoke.

Victor caught Yuuri from behind.

“We’ll come get him first thing in the morning…” he remembered what time it was and corrected himself, “as soon as we wake up.”

Yuuri accepted this and led Victor down the hallway to the bedroom.

As they reached the right doorway, Victor had a sudden idea. He picked Yuuri up into his arms, carried him into the room and then placed him gently down on the bed.

Yuuri laughed and caught another long kiss. His arms circled Victor’s head, while Victor did his best to support his own weight with his arms.

“Well, my dear husband,” Yuuri whispered, pulling free of the kiss, “what now?” The tip of his nose bumped playfully against the tip of Victor’s nose.

Victor’s hands moved on their own, sliding over Yuuri’s body, exploring every pocket and opening in his clothes.

Yuuri’s breathing got louder.

Victor’s hands reached Yuuri’s stomach. His right hand slid over Yuuri’s belt as his left settled on Yuuri’s hip.

“Ah!” Yuuri gasped. His breath was hot. The sound made Victor’s heart beat faster. “Ah!”

He was still only touching Yuuri’s belt, but he suspected that the gasps were meant to encourage him.

“Yuuri…?” There was just the hint of a question in his voice.

“Do it,” Yuuri whispered, gasping for air.

His hand slipped slowly into Yuuri’s pants. He felt the man shudder under his touch and climbed over him without thinking. He had to slip his hand free to make the climb without falling over on top of Yuuri.

Yuuri giggled. “Are my pants getting in your way?” he asked.

“Pants always seem to be getting in our way,” Victor replied. He coloured a little, realizing how the words sounded.

“Best get them out of the way, then.” There was a mischievous expression on Yuuri’s face that was impossible to resist.

A strange sound followed and they stared at each other in confusion.

Finally Victor thought he understood. “Is that… your phone?”

Yuuri pulled it out of the back pocket of his pants. “Sorry. I must’ve dialled someone by accident and…” he stared at the screen in surprise. “It’s my mother.”

Victor backed off and sat down at the edge of the bed. All the joy from before evaporated only to be replaced by fear. What did Yuuri’s parents want at a time like this?

Yuuri slid over to him and put an arm around him as he took the call. Although his next words were in Japanese, their tone suggested that he was saying hello.

The reply could be easily heard from where Victor sat and, even though it was all in Japanese, Victor couldn’t help feeling as if he was eavesdropping on a conversation he shouldn’t be hearing. He fidgeted uncomfortably.

Yuuri shook his head as he answered, apparently forgetting that she couldn’t see him. Victor listened, realizing that this was the first time he was hearing Yuuri speak Japanese. He knew that Yuuri often called his parents, but usually he left Yuuri to take the calls in private.

Victor closed his eyes as Yuuri’s mother continued to speak. There was a note of concern in her voice. Japanese was a very beautiful language.

Yuuri replied and then turned to whisper to Victor, “She’s asking how the wedding was and she’s apologizing that she couldn’t be there.”

“It’s not her fault,” Victor pointed out, opening his eyes. “And the wedding was perfect!”

Yuuri pressed a kiss to Victor’s cheek before answering his mother. “If only you could’ve been here with us…” he added in a whisper and in Russian.

Whatever she said next caught Yuuri by surprise. His eyes widened and he gave Victor a big smile.

“My parents want to come visit us,” he told Victor as he switched the phone from his right to his left hand. He started assuring her of something and Victor wondered if there was a difficulty of some kind.

If this had been a month ago, he would’ve offered to pay for their tickets. He lowered his head dejectedly, resting it on Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri stroked Victor’s chest, his hand moving in circles.

Victor bit his lip to keep from gasping.

He listened to Yuuri continue saying something in a soothing voice. “They can always stay in the guest bedroom,” he added in a low voice. His hand was on Victor’s stomach now.

Yuuri’s mother was getting very excited about something now. Victor met Yuuri’s eye.

“She can’t wait to meet you,” Yuuri explained in a low voice and then said something to her, adding, for Victor’s benefit, “You’re the best person in the world, Victor.”

 _I love you¸_ Victor mouthed at Yuuri.

Yuuri smiled. Forgetting himself, he continued talking in Russian, “I love him more than anyone else in the world.” Then, with a soft laugh he said something in Japanese.

His mother went on, but even if Yuuri did translate what she was saying, Victor didn’t hear anything after that because Yuuri chose that moment to slide his hand further down and stroke Victor between his legs.

Victor bit down his gasps as Yuuri carried on talking in a calm tone with his mother.

Finally he took his hand off Victor and concluded his call. They exchanged what Victor guessed were goodbyes and Yuuri ended the call. He set the phone aside.

“How do you feel?” Yuuri whispered, putting his arms around Victor and planting brief kisses against the side of Victor’s face. “Are you up for some sex, or would you rather go to sleep?

Victor gave Yuuri a weak smile. “I… I don’t think I can sleep right now.” He gestured vaguely at his lower body.

Yuuri slipped onto Victor’s lap and unbuttoned Victor’s jacket. “My parents said they’re going to come visit us in a few days.”

“They will stay with us, right?” Victor asked, trying to match Yuuri’s nonchalant tone.

Yuuri set Victor’s jacket aside and loosened his tie next. “I told them that they can use the guest bedroom.”

Victor nodded.

His tie soon joined his jacket and Yuuri moved on to the buttons of his shirt next. “I’ll clear it out tomorrow,” Yuuri added. “Some of my things are still in there.” He undid the last button, pulling Victor’s shirt out of his pants and then opened it up to slide his hands over Victor’s bare chest. “My box of porn movies is still there. I’d rather they didn’t stumble into it by accident.”

Victor nodded, feeling his cheeks burn.

This felt too surreal. He watched Yuuri set his shirt aside too and shift off his lap, feeling as if he was watching it all happen to someone else, as if he and Yuuri were watching another of his porn movies.

“I want to bring them to the orphanage,” Yuuri declared and Victor felt his attention snap back to the present. Yuuri undid the belt on Victor’s pants and pulled the zipper down. “I want to show them what a good person you are.” He looked into Victor’s eyes as he spoke those words and Victor could almost forget what they were about to do. Almost.

Yuuri frowned. “What do you say? If you think it’s a bad idea, then I won’t do it.”

“I…” Victor closed his eyes and focused on their conversation. It was too easy to get distracted by what Yuuri was doing.

He wanted to grant Yuuri’s wish, but he also wanted his children to be happy. He barely knew anything about Yuuri’s parents. What if they disapproved of the whole idea, saying that Yuuri and Victor couldn’t support this many children? They would be right, of course, but Victor wasn’t going to let that argument stop him. What if they weren’t good with children? What if they didn’t mind one or two, but not hundreds? What if…?

His mind raced through all the different possibilities, trying to imagine everything that could possibly go wrong. Finally he managed, “Let’s wait for them to get here first, please.” He opened his eyes and gave Yuuri a pleading look.

“Of course,” Yuuri said and kissed Victor’s chest. “It can wait.”

“I don’t know anything about your parents,” Victor admitted and then worried about how that sounded. “Will you tell me a bit about them? You said they live in Japan, but what do they do?”

Yuuri helped Victor out of his pants and underwear and lay down on the bed next to him with a dreamy smile on his face. “I grew up in Hasetsu. It’s a small coastal town in Japan. My parents keep an inn by the hot springs.” He sighed and closed his eyes.

Victor wondered if Yuuri was waiting for Victor to undress him.

“I wish I could take you there. Maybe one day…” He opened his eyes. “Aren’t you going to undress me now? Or did you change your mind about having sex with me?”

Victor felt a wave of embarrassment come over him. Of course he wanted this! He leaned over Yuuri and removed his jacket, raising Yuuri’s back to do it. The tie came off next and then his shirt. Only when Victor got through all the buttons on Yuuri’s shirt did he notice the smile playing on his lips. He tried to think of something that a character from those porn movies would say, but in that moment he pulled Yuuri’s shirt apart and saw what Yuuri had on under it and lost his ability to speak.

Yuuri opened his eyes and took in the expression on Victor’s face. “Hmm…” His hands unbuckled his belt, he undid his pants and lowered them.

Victor’s eyes trailed down. He felt his mouth open, but no sound came out.

“It’s called a body harness,” Yuuri explained, gesturing at the belts criss-crossing over his chest and reaching down to his lower stomach where a piece of what looked like leather gave him very little cover.

Victor pulled Yuuri’s pants off all the way, curious to see all the details. He helped Yuuri out of his shirt and whispered, “Can you turn over?”

“Of course.” Yuuri turned onto his stomach.

The belts crossed over his back too. There were little buckles everywhere and the material that had covered Yuuri at the front was nowhere to be seen at the back. Instead, there was a thin strip coming down between his butt cheeks.

“Wow…” Victor whispered. He wanted to touch Yuuri, but hesitated, unsure where to start.

Yuuri turned over to face him. He shifted back until his head was at the edge of the pillow, then he spread his legs. “There’s a zipper down there,” he gestured in the direction of his crotch, “and some buckles, if you want me to keep the rest of this on. Or,” he raised an eyebrow and Victor felt sweat roll down his back, “I can take it all off.”

Victor took all the details in again, letting his eyes sweep over Yuuri slowly, noting how the belts crossed just under his nipples, the way they hooked up to the underwear, for lack of a better word, at the very bottom.

“If you keep staring at me like that,” Yuuri warned, “I might do something stupid.”

Victor let his finger follow one of the belts across Yuuri’s chest. “You wore this the whole day long?” he asked. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“It’s not tight,” Yuuri told him. “And – yes, of course I did!”

Victor’s finger ended up at a belt that went from one hip to the other. He remembered the way Yuuri had stroked him during his conversation over the phone and tried not to smile. He could see the zipper. His finger followed it along Yuuri’s inner thigh.

“Victor…”

“I’m worried that I might hurt you, if I try to undo this zipper,” he confessed. His hand was under Yuuri now.

“Ah… Just – just – ah! – try to do your – ah! – best…”

His hand went around the other side. The zipper started at the very middle. He let his fingers close around it.

“Alright,” he said, “tell me when to stop.”

“Don’t ever stop…” Yuuri breathed out, closing his eyes.

He had to be careful, he told himself and watched as the zipper came undone. As he opened it, he wondered who had decided that this was a good idea. He had to lean in close and rely on touch when he got to the bottom.

Yuuri gasped and let one hand rest on Victor’s head.

After what felt like all eternity, the zipper ended and Victor was left holding the piece of material that had covered Yuuri only minutes before.

Yuuri’s fingers were buried deep in his hair now.

Victor knew what Yuuri wanted him to do next, so he leaned down over the part of Yuuri he’d just uncovered.

Yuuri woke up with his face buried in Victor’s stomach. His first thought was the realization that he’d fallen asleep with Victor’s thighs circled around him. His next thought was that both his hands were pressed over Victor’s but cheeks. He smiled against Victor’s skin.

Victor shifted a little. He would be waking up soon. Yuuri let himself slide up, his face still pressed against Victor’s skin and made it up to where Victor’s arms were circling around each other. He slipped in between them and turned around to press his back against Victor’s chest.

Victor’s arms tightened around him and the man slept on.

 _He must still be exhausted._ Yuuri grinned at the thought. Maybe he should’ve gone easy on Victor after the long day they’d had, but he’d been determined to enjoy their wedding night to the full.

He reached out for his phone.

“Hmmm…” Victor mumbled something incomprehensible as his legs shifted around Yuuri.

Yuuri wriggled his buttocks against Victor in response.

“What time is it?” Victor asked in a sleepy voice.

Yuuri put his phone away and stroked one of Victor’s thighs. “3:26.”

“Hmmm…” Victor pressed a kiss against the back of Yuuri’s head. One of his arms tightened around Yuuri, making him grin wider. “It must… we…” he mumbled and then froze. “What?” He pulled away and sat up. “It’s almost 4 in the afternoon?” he exclaimed.

Yuuri turned over onto his back to smile up at him. “Yes. We got in around 6 last night and then had sex for at least two hours.” He let his hand trail down Victor’s chest. “I think it was starting to get light when we finished.” God, he was desperate for more.

Victor took Yuuri’s hand and raised it to his lips. “I didn’t think I’d stay up so late,” he admitted. “Or sleep in so late.”

“Did you make plans for today?” Yuuri sat up and trailed his fingers down the sides of Victor’s face.

“No,” Victor admitted. “You told me not to, remember?”

“Because I have plenty of plans for both of us,” Yuuri explained, letting his left hand drop down past Victor’s chest and further until it was almost under Victor. “Are you up for another round? Or two?” he whispered.

Victor took Yuuri’s right hand in both of his own and kissed it. Then he stared down at the ring on Yuuri’s finger. “I should’ve bought it,” he whispered. “You didn’t need to pay for both rings.”

“I didn’t,” Yuuri confessed and frowned. “Phichit paid for this one. He must’ve figured out that I could only afford one.” He sighed. “And he knew just where to go because I asked him for advice on where to buy a wedding ring.” He met Victor’s eye after some hesitation and added, “I suppose it’s not very hard to show my photo to the person at the store and ask which ring I bought and then buy a matching one.”

Victor continued to hold Yuuri’s hand in his own, studying the ring thoroughly. It was a plain gold band. Yuuri had wanted to engrave something on Victor’s, but it had turned out to be too expensive for him.

“I’ll pay him back,” Victor vowed. “Maybe he’ll try to argue that it’s his present, but it doesn’t feel right that my husband’s wedding ring was paid for by someone else.”

Yuuri was silent. He didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t like owing others money, but he knew that he now had no other choice.

He could see how heavily it weighed on Victor’s mind and did his best to soothe him. “We’ll find a way,” he promised and pressed a kiss to Victor’s cheek.

“Yeah…”

Yuuri released him and lay back down on the pillow. “Will you pick up where you left off?” he asked, spreading his legs just a little and feeling himself get excited as Victor’s attention focused on his dick.

Victor placed a hand on Yuuri’s hip and stroked it gently. He leaned down. Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat, but Victor merely planted a kiss on Yuuri’s hip, moving his hand out of the way at the last minute.

Did Victor know that taking his time was working so well on Yuuri? He’d been convinced the night before that he would melt completely before Victor finished undoing that zipper.

Victor planted another kiss on Yuuri’s skin, a little closer to what Yuuri was hoping was going to become his final target.

A strange sound followed.

Victor raised his head and met Yuuri’s eye. His phone was ringing.

Panic fluttered in Yuuri’s chest. Who was it this time? Was it Victor’s parents again? Calling to say that he was even more disowned than before?

Victor sat up. “Sorry.” He reached out for his phone. “It’s probably Chris,” he said, not sounding very convinced himself.

 _I think he knows better than to call you the day after your wedding,_ Yuuri thought and sat up. He braced himself for terrible news.

Victor picked the phone up. His eyes fell on the screen and a question appeared on his face. “I don’t recognize this number. Maybe it’s a mistake?” He raised the phone to his ear. “Yes?”

Yuuri slid over closer.

“Hello! Am I talking to Victor Nikiforov? I’m calling to ask if you’re interested in appearing on a talk show.” The person on the other end of the line sounded ready to explode from excitement.

“Yes, it’s me,” Victor replied. “What kind of talk show do you have in mind?” He met Yuuri’s eye. There was a mix of fear and uncertainty on his face.

Yuuri took Victor’s right hand with both of his own and kissed his ring.

A smile spread over Victor’s face.

Yuuri put his arms around Victor and rested his head on Victor’s shoulder as Victor made arrangements for an appearance on TV.

Two days later, Victor and Yuuri went up together before the cameras of a television studio in the heart of Moscow. The host wanted to get his scoop as quickly as possible and had paid to fly Yuuri and Victor down to Moscow, which suited them perfectly since Yuuri’s parents were supposed to fly into Moscow the next day. They’d made arrangements to meet them and take a flight up to St. Petersburg together.

Victor sat, bathed in the studio lights and answered the host’s questions with a happy smile on his face.

Yuuri glowed with pride as he watched Victor. He’d come to support Victor, but the man didn’t really need his support: he was doing just fine on his own. Was this really the same person as the one who’d told him all those stories about avoiding the press? Who was this person who talked so easily about his figure skating career?

“I’m sure you get questions about retirement all the time,” the host said with a big smile that looked fake to Yuuri. “What’s your opinion on retirement? Do you plan to keep going while you can?”

Yuuri mentally thanked Yakov for getting involved as soon as he found out about the interview. It had been the coach’s idea that Victor got all the questions ahead of time, so he could come up with suitable answers to all of them.

Victor shifted back in his chair and took Yuuri’s right hand with his own. The rings caught the light. “I always thought that I’d keep competing while I still could,” he admitted, “but then I met Yuuri and fell in love.”

Yuuri felt his cheeks glow. Victor was confessing his feelings on TV! He turned to smile at him. “And I love you too,” he said, turning his hand to grip Victor’s in return.

A smile appeared on Victor’s face. “I married Yuuri three days ago,” he told the host.

“Oh, congratulations!” the host clapped and Yuuri accepted it as if he believed that they were genuine.

“I decided to retire,” Victor went on. “I want to focus on my family with Yuuri now.” He pressed a tender kiss to Yuuri’s hand, looking into his eyes.

Yuuri felt his heartbeat quicken.

For a brief moment, there was just the two of them and the promise they’d made to each other.

Victor blinked and turned back to face the host. “So this year’s Worlds is going to be my last competition.”

“Did you hear that, fans?” the host exclaimed, looking into one of the cameras. “In a month, you’ll get your last chance to watch Victor Nikiforov compete!”

Yuuri saw Victor open his mouth to point out that he wasn’t Victor Nikiforov anymore, but Victor never got the chance. The host ended the interview there and rose to shake their hands.

Would Victor’s parents see this interview? Would they try to keep it from airing on TV, or would they only find out when it was too late? And what would they think, if they did watch it? They’d be disgusted by most of it, Yuuri was certain of it. They’d probably blame it all on his bad influence, but Yuuri didn’t care about that. He doubted they would actually speak with Victor ever again. Maybe it was better this way.

Once they got back to their room, Yuuri caught Victor against the wall. “Who is this handsome and confident stranger?” he asked, his hand brushing Victor’s hair aside.

Victor coloured and lowered his eyes. “I was terrified out of my mind the whole time,” he confessed in a whisper. “I’m so glad it’s finally over.”

Yuuri kissed him on the cheek. “You were wonderful,” he whispered, “and that much courage definitely deserves to be rewarded.” He pressed a quick kiss to Victor’s lips. “We have a nice hotel room and a free evening, what do you say to a few hours of sex, Mr. Katsuki?”

Victor sighed. “And I don’t know if I should’ve told them that I changed my last name.”

“They’ll find out eventually,” Yuuri reassured him.

“I’m still so nervous,” Victor admitted.

Yuuri stepped back in surprise. “Why?” He stepped forward to give Victor a reassuring hug.

“What if your parents don’t approve of me? I could barely sleep last night because I couldn’t stop worrying about it!” There was so much fear in his face, that Yuuri felt on the verge of tears.

“Oh, Victor…” He stroked Victor’s back. “They will definitely love you. You’ll see.”

Victor only sighed in response.

Yuuri did his best to reassure Victor, but he could tell that none of his words were getting through.

It was a miracle that he got Victor to fall asleep that evening, but the next morning his nervousness only got worse. Victor’s hands shook so much during breakfast that Yuuri took over for him, buttering Victor’s toast and pouring him tea.

“Thank you,” Victor said. “Sorry, I…I don’t know what’s come over me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yuuri reassured him. “I like taking care of you.”

“You- you do?”

Yuuri nodded. “Yes, of course.” He put a hand on Victor’s arm. “Besides, if I didn’t take care of you, I wouldn’t be doing my duty as your husband, now would I?”

 _Your husband._ Those words had an amazing effect on Victor. They could make anything better. He sighed. “Where would I be without you?”

Yuuri didn’t answer. He didn’t need to – they both knew the answer to that question.

After breakfast they checked out of their hotel (which had, thankfully, also been paid for by the TV studio) and made for the airport.

The trip to the airport, the waiting in all the lines and then the walk to the gate that followed felt like a dream. Victor barely knew what he was doing.

Yuuri exclaimed loudly in Japanese and ran to a middle-aged couple sitting peacefully by the windows.

Victor was suddenly very aware of his surroundings. He studied the couple, knowing at once who they had to be.

The woman was short and plump. She wore glasses and had a cute haircut. The man had the peaceful expression of someone content to sit and watch the world go by. Both of them resembled Yuuri so much that there was no question about them being his parents.

As soon as they heard Yuuri’s voice, they jumped from their seats and ran to him, throwing their arms around him. His mother was giving Yuuri a very enthusiastic squeeze and chattering away excitedly. Victor recognized her voice from the phone call a few days ago.

Just as Victor became conscious of his role as a spectator, Yuuri’s mother turned to look at him with an exclamation he didn’t understand, but which, he thought, contained his name.

“She’s – my mother –” Yuuri untangled himself gently from his parents’ embrace and took Victor by the hand. “Victor, meet my parents.” He added something in Japanese and – much to Victor’s surprise – he was suddenly caught in an embrace from the two of them.

Yuuri’s mother said something and Yuuri spoke up, “My mother says thank you for taking care of me.”

Victor put his arms around them. “Tell them that you took care of me more than I took care of you.”

“Don’t say that!” Yuuri stepped forward and got pulled into their group hug.

After that, the day turned into a good dream. Yuuri’s parents only spoke Japanese and Yuuri had to translate everything they said to Russian, but no one hardly noticed this language barrier. Yuuri’s mother (who he soon learned was named Hiroko) asked Victor about himself. She wanted to know everything about him, every little detail from how much he trained to what he liked to eat. The conversation continued on the plane where Yuuri’s parents swapped seats with another couple so they could sit next to Yuuri and Victor.

At his mother’s insistence, Yuuri told her about Victor’s parents and Victor saw the expression on her face darken.

After a brief silence, it was replaced by a smile and she asked Victor if he’d ever been to Japan, or tried Japanese food.

“Only a few times,” was Victor’s answer to both questions.

A determined glimmer appeared in Hiroko’s eyes. “Then I will do my best!” she promised and her husband nodded in approval.

“You really don’t need to!” Victor tried to protest.

“Nonsense!” she waved him off. “It will be my pleasure! Cooking for my two sons – how often do I get to do that?”

Victor felt his heart melt. No, if he was honest with himself, his heart had melted some time ago. The woman won him over entirely. “How do I say mother in Japanese?” he asked Yuuri.

His husband stared at him in surprise and then he understood. “Okaasan,” he answered.

“Okaasan,” Victor said to Hiroko and gave a little smile. “What about “thank you”?” he asked, directing his attention back to Yuuri.

“Arigatou.”

Victor repeated the word to Hiroko.

She laughed.

It was a pity that the flight to St. Petersburg was so short, or Victor would have learned more words.

As the plane touched the ground, Victor turned to face Yuuri and said, “I want our children to meet your parents. Can you please tell them about the orphanage?”

Yuuri nodded, not questioning Victor this time.

Victor watched Yuuri explain about the orphanage to his – no _their_ parents and thought, _My children have grandparents now,_ and then he thought that _this_ and the beautiful moments which were bound to follow were worth all the pain and misery he’d faced.

Over the years, the driveway to the _Leningrad Oblast’ Orphanage_ changed. Trees rose up on either side of the road, the building expanded and the fence moved to circle more land. The playground changed, new staff came to replace the old ones as they retired, but many things remained just as they had always been.

Santa Claus came to visit every New Year’s Eve with a big bag of presents at his side. The rooms were filled with children. Laughter filled the air, as well as music. At different times of the day the air filled with singing, or happy babble, or excited screams. The walls in the front hall got covered in more and more photos of children – a photo of everyone staying here at the end of every single year. Children grew and left. Others came to take their place.

That day all the adults helped carry long tables outside to place them under the trees. The day was beautiful – not a cloud could be seen in the sky. Birds sang in the trees. Apples ripened on the branches, waiting for the children to come with their ladders and collect them into little baskets.

For the first time since its opening, the press was allowed to enter the orphanage. The camera crew set up its equipment, marvelling at how much the place looked like something from a children’s book.

Two elderly men stood off to one side. One of them was adjusting the second man’s tie.

The second man sighed and did his best to smile. “They spent an hour on my makeup, but none of it will hide that I’m just an old man.”

The first one laughed. “You look handsomer every day, Victor,” he declared and planted a brief kiss on Victor’s lips.

“Oh, you flatterer,” Victor laughed. “My dear, _dear_ Yuuri, how can I ever hope to compete with you?”

“ _Are_ we competing?”

“Of course not!”

They both laughed.

People rushed around them, covering the tables with white tablecloths and loading them with food.

Victor gave another sad sigh. “I want to help,” he said, but Yuuri coaxed him into sitting down in one of the chairs.

“I think you can rest at least for today,” Yuuri assured him. “It’s enough that you cooked most of the food yourself.”

More people came around the house and joined the crowd slowly gathering around the tables. Children played hide-and-seek and tag around the adults.

Victor caught sight of some of the newcomers and rose to his feet.

A man in his mid-thirties ran to Victor and threw his arms around him. “I’m back, father!”

“Vanya, let me get a good look at you.” Victor pulled back and took the man in. “Not Vanya now, but Ivan Victorovich. It’s so hard to believe that you’re a grown man now!”

The man laughed. “I’ll always be Vanya to you, I hope.”

“Did you fly here straight from Tokyo?” Yuuri asked.

“Hello, father Yuuri!” He caught Yuuri in a hug as well before answering his question. “Yes, I didn’t want to be late. Grandma and grandpa send their best!”

Yuuri smiled. “I saw the last chess match. You were amazing, Vanya!”

Vanya beamed at his parents. “Thank you. But I can’t steal you from everyone.” He stepped aside and revealed the long line that had formed behind him.

A woman from the main broadcast network, dressed in a way that gave away her job in the media, hastily adjusted her hair and rushed over, followed closely by floating cameras.

“I come to you live from the _Leningrad Oblast’ Orphanage_ , run by Victor and Yuuri Katsuki. Today marks the orphanage’s 30th anniversary! There were only 52 orphans here at the time, but over the years thousands of children grew up in these walls and grew up to become famous in different professions. Next to me is Ivan Victorovich Katsuki, the many-times chess champion.” She turned around. “Here we have the team that led the first mission to Mars (yes, viewers, _that_ mission). A couple of Novel prize winners can be seen setting the table over there. We have athletes, poets, ballet dancers, teachers… I think it’s safe to say that every single profession is represented here.” She strode over to Victor and beamed at him. “And here is the man himself – Victor Katsuki, along with his husband Yuuri Katsuki, who helped make the dream a reality!”

Victor smiled for the cameras and gave the viewers a cheery hello. “Welcome, everyone!” He didn’t know what to say after that and settled for joining his hands and smiling.

“It’s so beautiful here!” the reporter went on. She walked under the trees and the cameras followed her, showing the ripe apples peeking out from among the leaves and the colourful birdfeeders made by several generations of children.

She circled the table and returned to where Victor and Yuuri were greeting young men and women who all called them father. Both men threw anxious glances at the table from time to time.

The captain of the Mars mission walked by with a tall stack of plates and his first in command followed just behind him with more plates. A camera caught the fond look that passed between them, but there was nothing new there: everyone on Earth had already heard about First Officer Otabek proposing to Captain Yuri as soon as they’d landed on Mars.

A little girl ran up to Victor and he picked her up to sit her down on his knee as he dropped back into his chair. The cameras took the moment in, in all its picture-perfect glory.

She chattered excitedly about everything she saw, asking who the new people were and why there were cameras floating in the air above them. Victor answered, his voice full of pride. He talked about the children who’d gone on to become doctors, teachers and cleaners with the same pride he talked about the space explorers, athletes and Nobel prize winners among them.

“And you’re all my children,” he concluded.

“All, all of us?” the girl asked, blinking up at him.

“Yes.”

“Who will I be when I grow up, papa?”

He kissed her forehead. “Someone amazing, I just know it.”

She beamed hugely and slipped off Victor’s knee to run off and play another game of tag.

The reporter took a moment to wipe a tear from her eye and joined Victor once more. “The viewers all want to know the secret behind your success, Victor Katsuki. Will you tell us what it is?”

Victor met Yuuri’s eye and took his hand. “There’s no secret. Not really. I was lucky enough to learn at a young age that there’s nothing wrong with having a very big, very ambitious dream and that sometimes doing your best is not enough. You’re not alone out there. You have to find others willing to share your dream and learn to carry the weight of it together.” He laughed. “But before you run off, don’t think it’s as easy as that.” He met Yuuri’s eye again. “It was a hard fight every day for thirty years and it continues to this day. But I wouldn’t trade it for all the treasures in the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I confess that I looked up translations to Japanese for this chapter, so please let me know if I made a mistake. Thank you everyone for reading, leaving comments and kudos!
> 
> Up next: Love Alarm. You no longer have to guess if your crush likes you back: there's an app for that...


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